A Perception of Reality (Discontinued)
by ThisIsTheGreatestUsername
Summary: What lies between players and the completion of the death game SAO and returning home? A hundred floors. The task alone seems too daunting, and thus many have resigned to the belief that the game may never be completed. However, few out of thousands have taken up the task nevertheless. Their philosophy: One Floor at a time. This is the story of the 28th Floor. (Discontinued)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sword Art Online, I just own a book on the study of wolves.**

* * *

Grassy hills and stone ruins dominated much of the landscape of the 28th Floor. Gravel roads connected the only two towns, as well as some of the smaller villages on this floor. The artificial sun had already begun to set, inviting packs of «**Blood Wolves**» to rise from their afternoon naps.

Shuji Takumi, also known as Viator, walked at a slow pace, frequently glancing at the map in his hands. He had no idea where he was. Ruins of destroyed camps and houses surrounded him, with the occasional pile of stones impeding his path. Everything looked pretty much the same to him. His eyes began to twitch rapidly.

"Do you even know how to read the damn map?" his female companion asked in a loud and condescending voice. It was a voice that he'd gotten used to - they had grown up together - but it would still tick him off at times.

"Be quiet Konata, I'm trying to concentrate." he said, looking at his map again. Two green dots lay in the middle of the map, with grey blocks of different sizes representing the many broken buildings in the ruins of a small town they were in.

"Oh come on," she whined, snatching the map out his hands. "Aren't there arrows pointing to the place, just like any other MMO?"

Shuji sighed, not bothering to take the map back. Yes, in a normal MMO there would be a system that would point players in the direction of your set destination. However, in SAO the system will only point to places that you have visited before or as Kayaba described it, places that were _discovered_.

"We would at least know where we're going, if we had stayed on the road." Shuji criticized, tapping the knife that was strapped to his left thigh unconsciously. He rolled his eyes. "But _no, _we had to take _a shortcut_ through the ruins."

Konata ignored his remark, to which he sighed as they turned around the corner of a moss-covered stable. Their destination was «**Jorhurst**», a village on the outskirts of the labyrinth, currently known to many as the front line. It was supposed to be only an hour trek east from the previous town, but an obvious poor choice of routes led to them being lost.

His eyes felled onto Konata's back as she shifted to the front of him. Her relatively long hair was kept in a ponytail, and she wore a small breastplate made from lizards' skin over an apple green tunic that reached past her upper thighs. The steel gauntlets she had on were the reward of a monster slaying quest from the 26th Floor. A pair of red dyed leather boots that he had bought for her seventeenth birthday completed her battle attire.

He would have gotten her a better gift, if their _situation_ were any different.

He scowled when he found his attention back to himself, again noticing the player-made sabre on his right hip that constantly pestered him as he walked. He had half a mind to keep it in his inventory, but of course that would leave him vulnerable to attacks. And his wrought iron hauberk wasn't going to be the one to save him in that situation. That would fall to Konata, and Shuji doubted that Konata's bow would be sufficient protection for the both of them.

However, he disliked the iron hauberk that he had equipped. It protected him very well, as did all the metal plates that some players donned, but the hauberk slowed him down more often than not. He'd much preferred the mobility that his simple green pants made from superior leather and his pair of boar hide boots provided.

"Neh Shuji," Konata's gentler tone broke him out of his thoughts.

Her neck twisted slightly to face him, revealing the side of her pretty face. Shuji saw that her eyes were focused entirely on him.

"What if the front line isn't meant for us?"

Wrinkles of surprise appeared on his forehead as he arched his eyebrows.

"Why are you asking this now?"

They had worked hard in order to level up. Countless hours were spent on grinding. In fact, she would even grind by herself after she thought he'd fallen asleep. If it wasn't all for making it to the front line, then what was it for?

"Forget it." Her usual ungentle tone returned, and she looked ahead again. She pushed a strand of caramel hair out of her face before changing the subject. "You know, I can't wait till I meet Asuna the Flash; she's a role model to all women."

Shuji glared at her with a suspecting eye before sighing out loud, deciding to let the matter rest.

"If we can even find the place first…" he reiterated. He silently cursed the fact that only the largest town of each floor had a «**Teleport Gate**».

They turned around another corner; the remains of a granary this time.

"There's the end of the ruins!" Konata shouted, prompting Shuji's face to light up.

He saw her index finger pointing to a semi-standing gateway. The gate was no longer there, but its rock pillars still stood... sort of.

"About damn time-"

A loud howl interrupted him before he can continue the complaint.

Realization dawned upon Shuji as he recognized the vicious sound. "Shit, Blood Wolves!" he pulled himself and Konata behind a nearby stone pillar.

He stuck his head out slightly to scout ahead. A pack of five red furred wolves lay ahead, patrolling nearby. They were evenly spaced out; covering much of the land. Above their heads, red cursors indicated they were already hostile and will attack anything on sight.

He moved his black bangs out of his eyes.

"Can we take them?" he heard Konata whisper.

Shuji bit his lower lip.

Wolf-type mobs have the ability to inflict the «**Bleed**» effect with their bites, which causes HP loss over time. The duration and damage done depended on the severity of the bite.

It would have been preferable that the numbers were fewer. Both of them lack the necessary AOE skills needed fight groups of enemies at the same time, since Konata and he specialized mainly in isolation kills. But that's not to say that they haven't got their fair shares of multiple hostiles before.

Five should still be within their capabilities…

He glanced at Konata for a moment. Her right hand was already grasping the compound bow that slung from her back. He took another look at the wolves, his hand unconsciously falling to his sabre.

The rough texture of the hilt pricked against the fingers of his left hand. His eyes locked on the mobs, which shifted among themselves as if they could sense someone was spying on them. He could hear their faint grunts and scratches. A drop of simulated sweat rolled down his cheek as he chewed his lower lip.

The grip on his weapon slackened.

No.

"_Fighting won't be necessary,_" he told himself. Their goal was Johurst.

Shuji shook his head.

"No, Konata," he finally responded. "We will go around them."

A mixture of disappointment and relief flashed across her face. "Tch. You're always too cautious, Shuji." She said this, but nevertheless complied with what he told her.

His gaze broke off the beasts as they slowly retreated behind a piece of a stone hut, which probably once housed a town's guard. He let Konata lead the way to the right because she had the better sense of direction.

The sounds of growls and sniffs became louder causing the both of them to halt. They paused for a moment…

More growls.

It was apparent that the blood wolves were only a score of meters away from them, getting closer with each passing second.

Shuji clenched his fist. He contemplated actually going to fight them. At this distance, their skills in «**Stealth**» were ineffective against wolf-type mobs due to being outweighed by their higher **PER**-

"Run Shuji!"

A sense of uncertainty washed over him. "Wait Konata!" He reached out in a vain attempt to stop her, but she had already darted ahead.

"_Damn it!"_ he cursed as he sprinted after her.

A long howl from behind him reached his ears. He ran harder.

Konata's incredibly high «**AGI**» was always a sight to behold; she was already several meters ahead after his short moment of hesitation.

Shuji quickly glanced over his shoulder; the pack was already on their tails. He prayed that his own «**AGI**» and the lightness of his armor would prevail today as it did many times before.

They broke into a wide meadow expanse, leaving the broken ruins well behind.

He could hear the grunts becoming softer as he suspected the distance between them widened.

However, Konata stopped.

"What are you doing?" Shuji shouted, catching up to her.

She held her right arm out causing him to come to a stop too.

He took a step back.

An oversized blood wolf barred their escape. Its fur was a darker shade of red than the others. Four bone spikes protrude from its back. The alpha wolf let out a menacing growl, its two tails swaying in a delicate dance. The tag «**Blood Wolf Leader**» hovered over its head.

Shuji heard Konata gulp. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the other wolves had caught up to them and surrounded them in an organized circle. They barked at each other, almost as if asking who should have the first bite.

Escape was no longer an option_. _

"Konata, you know what to do." he said under his breath, but audible enough for her to hear it.

She barely inclined her head.

"On my signal."

She nodded again.

Tension filled the air. The next few seconds went by agonizingly slow. Shuji could have sworn that a new day had already passed. Yet still, neither side made a move.

Shuji eyed the blood wolf leader, his left hand stealthily reaching for the hilt of his weapon.

A drop of simulated saliva dripped out of the wolf's mouth, splashing the green pasture.

"NOW!" He roared.

Konata drew her bow and nocked an arrow, her arrow glowing green, just as Shuji ripped his sabre out of its scabbard and struck the wolf to his right. The wolf bent double in pain and Shuji doubled the pain with a slash. Konata's arrow finished the job.

The rest of the pack was in motion, except for its leader who stood in its place.

A second wolf lunged forward at Konata. She gripped her bow with both hands and swung it at the head. The back of the bow collided heavily against the skull, sending the wolf hurdling a few meters.

But Konata didn't stop there. She nocked an arrow, pulling the the string back until her grip could not be held. The arrow tore through the air, burying itself in the wolf's neck. Her great precision awarded her a spray of polygons from the wolf.

"_That hit from the bow must have done a high damage._" Shuji thought. He bashed the head of a wolf with the pommel of his sabre. In response, the wolf backed off.

"Shuji, you take the leader! I can handle it here." Konata shouted as she let loose another arrow.

"Got it." He shouted back.

Konata nocked an arrow, aiming it at the blood wolf leader. "Go then!"

The arrowhead glowed brightly and struck home in the leader's nose. The blood wolf leader howled in pain, its blood spraying profusely. Seeing their leader attacked, the remaining wolves charged at her.

Shuji bolted in, moving straight for the alpha wolf.

He activated a sabre skill, and thrust his blade into the injured nose; a definite critical hit. The alpha wolf howled in pain as it staggered backwards, prompting Shuji to close the distance, and stabbed at the neck. The wolf roared at him before swiping its claws at his abdominal. Shuji's _reflex arc_ kicked in and he jumped back, narrowly evading the attack.

He glanced at Konata's position. A dagger was in place of her bow, but she was still holding well without her bow, dodging nimbly and finding weak spots for her dagger to sink in. A lightning-shaped icon suspended above two of the remaining three wolves' head signifying paralysis, probably caused by the bow skill «**Paralysis** **Shot**»; its effect should last for a few more seconds.

Shuji moved in and slashed at the wolf's neck. The alpha wolf barely winced. Only a loud bark was let out in response to his attack as Shuji hopped to its side. It swung a paw at Shuji's head, to which the player ducked under and dug his blade in the wolf's armpit. The wolf felled a step back as it yelped in pain and Shuji didn't hesitate to deliver another sabre skill to its head. The steel blade connected with the nose again, spilling some more polygon-made blood.

The blood wolf suddenly stood up on its hind legs, which caused Shuji to take a step back. He could see its eyes glow with rage before turning jet black. The bone spikes on its back grew in length and size.

It let out a powerful roar that vibrated throughout the air.

An intense surge of pain pounded in Shuji's head. He dropped his sabre as he clasped both ears, a tinge of red spotting his eyes.

"AARGHH!" He screamed.

The roar died down, the pain leaving Shuji just as quickly as it came. But in his brief moment of vulnerability, the blood wolf leader pounced on him.

He barely saw it coming, but Shuji raised his right arm in the nick of time to shield his head from the incoming bite. Every pain receptors in his forearm rocked his brain as the wolf's fangs sunk in deep. The cheap gauntlet did little to stop the penetration.

Shuji tried to pull his arm away, but the wolf was adamant on keeping it. He clubbed the wolf's belly with his free hand. This had no effect. Shuji gritted his teeth as he saw out of the corner of his eye that his health had fallen well into the yellow zone and was decreasing fast, the «**Bleed**» effect has also taken placed.

At this rate, he was going to die.

He struggled against the body of the wolf as he attempted to reach for his knife that was strapped to left leg. The wolf pressed down on him more as if it knew what he was trying to do. But by the time the wolf restricted his arm it was too late. He had already managed to grab the blade.

A powerful stab to its stomach caused the wolf to release his arm and jump back several meters. Shuji scrambled to his feet and readied his knife.

"Stay back." Those words came out weaker than he intended them to be.

Only a short distance separated the two of them. Both were breathing heavily. Shuji lowered his stance, his left boot brushing his fallen sabre. Blood was dripping out of his right arm; the numbing pain reminding him of what he just went through.

His health was bordering the red zone, and so was his opponent's.

One more strike was what both of them needed.

The wolf had a further reach than he did, and also the greater strength. If it was determined by physique alone, Shuji knew that he was at the disadvantage. However-

His left arm blurred in a flurry to the side of his head as he activated a throwing skill; «**Stun Throw**». The knife glowed yellow and his body moved on its own. A loud cracking noise resounded as the butt of the knife found its target. The wolf wobbled. For the next two second it will not be able to move.

Immediately Shuji reached down for his sabre and lunged forward.

_Two seconds was enough._

Shuji clenched the hilt of his sabre and swung upwards in a vertical arc, hitting the wolf with all his strength along the bottom of its jaw.

The alpha wolf froze for a moment before exploding into a myriad of polygons.

…

Shuji slumped, a smile cracking across his face. "That was close," he said before collapsing to his knees in exhaustion.

The «Bleed» effect had stopped, but it had taken its toll on what little health he had; only a sliver remained. Immense pain hounded his entire being.

"Shuji!"

He turned his head slowly. The remaining wolves had fled and Konata was rushing towards him.

Shuji smiled weakly at her.

"You're carrying me to Johurst."

* * *

**Any form of critic is welcomed, even flames.**

**See ya.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry for the long wait.**

* * *

Konata planted herself on the makeshift bed, the straws doing a fine job in keeping her back off the hard wooden floor. They hadn't reached «**Johurst**». The darkness of the night had covered the land swiftly and quietly, thus rendering it too dangerous to travel, at least for the next hour or two. After of which «**Blood Wolves**» activity would have died down and it should be safe enough to try to reach the village a few kilometers away.

She was inside an abandoned hut, probably once belonging to a lonely farmer. Rusty pots and broken pieces of wood lied messily around, while a bronze sickle hung loosely from the wooden wall. Konata gazed at the semi-collapsed roof, some of the wooden beam had rotted mightily and looked like it was going to cave in any moment, but Konata knew it was only a game design and that she was in no immediate danger.

A soft chime jingled as she dragged the translucent menu out of thin air. Her eyes fell on the virtual clock; 19:23. They would set out in an hour's time again, but for now she wanted to rest. Nonchalantly, she retracted her daggers and throwing knifes back to her inventory, though she kept her bow and quiver out beside her.

"Rough day..." she said to herself, resting her arms by her sides.

Shuji's head popped in at the doorway, its door in a leaning state for the top hinges had snapped. "You hungry?"

She turned to her side. "No," she said, barely looking at him.

He sighed and entered the house, the door flapped against the wind.

"I've got three cans of beans, we'll eat those," he said, sitting down in front of her.

She didn't answer.

Shuji pulled his menu, the usual chime noise resounding. Konata watched as he scrolled through his inventory; his index finger moving in slow fashion, pausing many times for him to read every item's name carefully.

He carried a tired expression, with his eyebrows furrowed. The redness of his eyes stood out particularly well, even when partially covered by his bangs. His armor was covered in dirt, with bits of grass here and there.

It had been a rough day for him.

Her eyes fell to his right forearm. He was still equipped with the damage gauntlet, despite being currently filled with bite marks; holes that looked larger than they did then… Konata looked away from Shuji, and she wrapped her arms around herself as the cold evening wind blew in from the open doorway. Back then, she'd saw Shuji's health depleted deep into the red zone, a little furthermore and...

A little furthermore, and Shuji would have died.

"Hey," Shuji's voice snapped her back to reality. She blinked at him, almost unaware that her eyes were slightly watery.

"H-How's your arm?" she asked in an inaudible whisper, avoiding eye-contact.

Shuji glanced at said arm. "Oh, I'll have a blacksmith fix this tomorrow."

Konata bit her lip at his stupidity. "That's not what I meant."

Shuji glared at her for a moment before turning his attention to his forearm. "Aa," he said and proceed to unbuckled the gauntlet, removing it to reveal the sight of two large bloodied holes in his arm. No bones, instead pitch black hollows. "There is still some «**Lasting Effect**», but I'll survive."

The sight of the dried blood that encrusted the edges of the wound caused Konata to turn away. Artificial as they may be, they looked almost the exact same as the real thing.

Ever since Kayaba's announcement, pain became a part of the game. The lower one's health is, the more it hurts. Some player speculates that it's because the pain absorbers are less effective when your health decreases, almost as if it was Kayaba's way of reminding a player of a certain fate to avoid. **  
**

"Anyway, let's eat." The sound of items materializing reached her ears. A can of baked beans was thrown to her lap, along with a spoon.

She stared blankly at the can, unable to work up the appetite. "I can't eat," she said, placing the can down.

Shuji sighed and shifted himself closer to her. "Come on." He picked up her can and pried the lid open. The strange aroma of cooked beans filled her nose; canned food was always ready to be eaten without any cooking in SAO.

"I said that I can't ea-" A spoonful of beans shoved in her mouth interrupted her. Her nose cringed. The beans tasted dull and bitter, only a slight hint of sugar was present, but she suckled on it. The spoon exited her mouth.

Shuji chuckled a little, his smile comforting her somewhat.

"How does it taste?" he asked.

She wiped her mouth. "It needs ketchup."

"I don't have ketchup."

Konata crossed her arms behind her head. "Then, I'm not eating."

She heard Shuji chuckled again, but more heartily this time, it brought a smile to her lips, but she quickly covered it with her hand, disguising her slight happiness.

She looked over to Shuji again. He was finishing the same can of beans that she'd started. It was same when they were little, every time she couldn't eat, Shuji would be the one to finish for her. Always the greedy one for size, he is. But despite that, she's glad that he's still the Shuji that she grew up with; the same strong, helpful, and caring Shuji Takumi, whether in this world or the other. Konata pushed herself up, drawing her knees to her chest and embracing them. She made no effort to hide her smile this time.

"Shuji, I'll take watch. You rest," she said, her usual confident tone returning as she stood up. Shuji voiced his protest, but was instantly rebutted, and he let out a sigh of defeat, allowing her to have her way yet again. Konata sat down by the doorway, clutching her knees against her chest, and gazed out into the vast darkness that hid the meadows of green. The sound of rain could be heard, but only in the brief light shone by the artificial moon, can she see the droplets of rain pouring onto the grass. The droplets would have fallen through the broken roof too but an invisible barrier conjured by lines of code, barred them from entering any interior.

The straws behind her rustle, and she glanced back at Shuji. He lied on his side, with his back facing towards her. He hadn't bothered to take off his armor for they were leaving in an hour's time. But she wished they would stay here for the night; it had been rough day for him. But now she'd realized, everyday had been a rough day for him.

"Shuji…" Those words escaped her lips.

"What?"

She turned back to her front. "Nothing. Rest."

"Oh, okay."

* * *

They stood in front of a two story building made from stone. Its corners were lined with oak, leading up to a roof laid out with flat tiles overlapping each other. A bright flashing sign post hung above the wooden front doors, with the words: «**The Night's Laugh**», carved on it, its bright light contrasting the still night sky.

Konata frowned. "I don't drink."

Laughter rang from the group of four players they were with. Their leader, a tall dark haired player, turned to face her. He was fitted with a lamellar cuirass, _kote_ gauntlets and dark blue pants. A black sheath hung from his leather belt at his left hip. If Konata knew any better, she would say that he bore a striking resemblance to the samurais of the past.

"No one's asking you to. But Viator here needs one," he said with a cheerful smile as he slapped Shuji in the back with his gloved hand before pushing through the tavern doors, to which the others followed behind.

Inside, the hall was fabulously lightened by an exquisite array of torches. Tables of different shapes and sizes along with stools were packed in one side of the room, leaving the other side clear of anything besides the armoire decorations. Players sat together in their own groups, drinking away, talking loudly, carefree in their ways.

Alcohol was one of the last minute editions to SAO before its release. Initially there were some concerns that it would promote drinking habits in players that would carry onto real life but these concerns were barely addressed for the Japanese culture doesn't frowns upon drinking. It served as a medium in which players could dowsed their fatigues of a hard day of grinding in several, or more, swigs.

The samurai, otherwise known as Rinsuu, waltzed over to one of the table. Although, it was occupied by a lone drunk player, the samurai easily brushed him aside and sat down. The player fell flat onto the floor, simply too drunk to resist. Rinsuu beckoned them to sit as well.

"Don't wait till this guy's sober."

Only after a moment of hesitation, did Konata went and pulled her own stool, noting that the other three players had disappeared into the crowd. As she sat down, she noticed the samurai's eyes, it had glint of spark, unlike many others she'd seen before. For some reason, she felt a little uncomfortable under his gaze. They were on their way to Johurst when they'd met Rinsuu's group. Immediately, they'd offered to buy a meal for them, she guessed they had realized, from the large gaping holes in Shuji's gauntlet, that Shuji had a run in with some trouble.

Rinsuu sat with a curious expression, his fingers drumming the wooden table with no consistency in rhythm. Konata knew he wanted to ask about what'd happened in the ruins, but was holding back in hopes of not sounding rude. Shuji must have noticed as well.

"Blood Wolves," Shuji said.

"I knew that, nothing else could make those holes," Rinsuu pointed to the damaged gauntlet on Shuji's right arm. "Better get it fixed up by blacksmith tomorrow." Shuji nodded. "Ah, here're the drinks."

One of the players in Rinsuu's group returned, singlehandedly carrying five mugs, their contents swished and swirled, threatening to spillover but never doing so. He was the shortest among the group, even shorter than Konata who stood slightly below average height herself. His eyes were circled with dark bags, leaving an impression of many sleepless nights, but the cocky smirk on his face proved otherwise.

"Thanks Denham. Where's Hagman and Yaro?"

"Hagman is over there by the darts, he's got a wager going on with a bunch of people from «**DDA**», and Yaro…" The short player shrugged, then placed down all five mugs onto the table and took his place next to Shuji.

"Let him be." The samurai let out a hearty laugh, then proceed to gulped down the content of his mug.

Konata eyed the dark liquid swirling in the mug in front of her, the strong scent of dark rum filled her nose, dancing within and making her head feel a little light. She pushed the mug away to the side and drank from her own waterskin despite feeling a little awkward amongst them for doing so. She wiped her lips and exhaled.

"Are you guys a part of a guild?" she asked, her eyes jumping from Rinsuu to Denham then back to Rinsuu again.

"Not really, at least not officially." Denham answered. "We're more like a party of solo players that sticks to each other like tails to horses. Not really being very solo if you ask me."

_That's an odd way to phrase it_. Konata thought. The drunken player beside her feet began to stirred, but a quick kick by Rinsuu put him to place again. "How many are you?" she asked.

"Nine."

Konata raised an eyebrow. She had expected a player or two more than the four she'd already met. According the rumors, the amount of solo players in the front lines could be counted with a single hand. But it turns out, rumors were after all…rumors.

"Then why not start a guild? Nine should be enough for the guild-creation quest." Shuji suggested.

Rinsuu shook his head. "Nah, no reason. All of us are here to clear the game, no need to be in a guild to do it. But ask me and I will say these guys are the best god-damned fighters in all of Aincrad." He took a slurp out of his mug and placed it down on the table. His grin grew wider. "Although, I give these guys three rules. Three rules. Break them and I break who. No one screws around in a fight. No one abandons one another in a fight. And give Kayaba hell like the bastards we all are in every damn fight."

Konata stared at the samurai, admiration welling up within her. She never expected that. A part of her had misjudged him during their first encounter. His unkempt face surely didn't create the greatest of first impressions.

Rinsuu took a swig of his rum. "But all that's going to end because I'm retiring."

Konata blinked her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"After this floor gets cleared, I'm leaving the front lines. I'm just making as much Cols as possible now then later scram to lower floors to live for the rest of the game."

"Why?"

"I'll tell you another day," he said, his smile looking rather forced than genuine.

"So where will you go?" Shuji butted in.

"Anywhere. Denham, Hagman and Yaro are coming with me, so we'll figure something out."

Konata nodded. It wasn't uncommon to find ex-clearers in the lower floors; they usually find themselves a non-combat job that provides a steady flow of Cols, enough for a comfortable life. Many of them seemed to appreciate the simplistic life that they lead, not giving second thoughts on returning to action again. She guessed Rinsuu and his friends would be doing the same, never to pick up the sword again, fallen victims to the pressure of the front lines.

She looked around at her surroundings. The chants and roaring of players had died down considerably as the number of players in the tavern lessened. Even amongst those that remained, a quarter was flat out drunk, being propped against the walls for support. Tomorrow, they would be in for massive headaches and the receiving end of their superiors' punishment.

"Well since we still have this floor to clear," Rinsuu said, bringing Konata's attention back to him, "why don't you two join us? You'll learn something from us."

Konata looked to Shuji. He sat with a canny expression, his eyes in a thoughtful gaze. A second passed before he answered. "I'm fine with it," he said and Konata sounded her agreement as well.

The samurai smiled as if he never doubted that they would say no. And of course, why would they? Denham got up and clasped his hands on each of their shoulder, squeezing them with a strength deceptive of his size.

"Great! Now drink up!" Rinsuu ordered with a grin.

A grin marked Shuji's face, to which Konata couldn't help but laughed herself too. The samurai's optimism was as contagious as the flu. She was pretty sure that back in the real world, Rinsuu was a popular person, the type that simply exudes charisma from his presence. She took another sip of water from her skin.

Then almost as if on cue, the remaining two players of Rinsuu's group crashed onto their table, the bigger one of them out cold.

"Bastard got me to clean up after his mess again," the one who Konata remembered as Hagman spoke. He was struggling to lift his unconscious bigger friend which Konata recognized as Yaro off the table. Denham decided to give him a hand, to which they successfully placed the player down on the floor, next to the other drunk player.

The medium size Hagman found a stool as he joined in at the table. He rubbed his nose, which was crooked due to breaking it several times IRL and in game. "So, what's going on here?"

"Oh, we just found two new members. That's all."

* * *

It seemed airless inside the meeting room of the town's manor. It was a large room, large enough to fit the fair number of clearers it hosted. The windows were open to an inviting morning view of the small village's street, but there's was no wind to stir the damped air trapped inside. Players of different guilds stood at the ends of the room, back against walls, as only the highest of ranking guild members circled a round table in the middle of the room. Asuna the Flash was one of such members.

The room fell into a deep silence as players finally found their place. She took a quick gaze at all the eyes of all the players, some fidgeting upon meeting her eyes, while others remained impassive.

"May we begin?" she asked.

"The Black Swordsman is not here," someone called out from the ranks of players.

"Forget him," Asuna said, then unrolled a map that had been scrolled on the table. It was a detailed outline of a fortress, one capable of instilling fear at mere sight, with its many towers and curtained walls circling its layout, including at the center where a daunting keep stands. There was a river sketched at the left that ran parallel with the western wall. "This is the labyrinth. According to the NPCs it was built to withstand attacks from the marauding orcs from the east, impregnable they say. However, in a grand battle the human army was defeated and fled from the fortress, to which the orcs has since claimed." She paused, waiting a moment for the other leaders to study the map, and then continuing. "Today's strategy meeting is to discuss how we are to assault the fortress."

"Are there any known entrances?" Klein asked.

"The scout are working on that. Most of the fortress is unmapped as of now, but so far the only entrances we know of, are the four gates," she replied, pointing to each of the gates; north, south, east and west.

"We'll wait for the scout's information," it was Lind that spoke this time. The «**DDA**» leader dragged his right index finger along the outer walls of the fortress. "It's too risky to make a direct assault."

Asuna clicked her tongue. "A risk that I say we take."

"What are you suggesting _Miss_ Sub-Commander?" he growled. Some players snickered at the 'missy' comment but were quickly reprimanded by their superiors.

"Even if other entrances are found, at most only a party or two can enter at a time."

"Then where do we attack?"

Asuna returned her gaze back to the map. If what the NPCs said were true, the eastern walls would be the most heavily fortified and the hardest to assault. The most obvious choice would be the western wall where the walls are at its weakest. And if she were to go by a logistical perspective, the west would be most suitable as it is closest to their supply line in Johurst, the stockpile of food and materials needed for repairs an important factor. However, the land was filled with valleys and ditches alongside the river that would greatly hinder the clearers' advances and susceptible to enemy skirmishers. That leaves north and south, both were viable options.

"I say we attack here." She indicated the southern wall. "The land is mostly flat, except for this ridge here," she tapped a jagged line drawn near the edge of the map, "We can place our catapults there where the walls will be in their range and easily defended as well."

The leaders nodded in agreements, except for Lind who kept to himself. Seeing that her proposal was widely accepted without further opposition, Asuna continued. "Once the walls are breached, we will-"

"Wait," a female player interrupted her. She was a member of the «**Great Brigade**»; a prominent guild with over two hundred members. Probably in her early twenties, the player wore the Brigade's signature blue scarf that was given only to commanding members of the guild. From the top of her head, long luscious locks of golden hair flowed freely. "I have been in this area before," the player said, tapping the area Asuna had indicated. Her voice was elegant, but yet demeaning almost to the point of condescending. "There is a small orc outpost nearby that could possibly cause some trouble."

"I was going to address that later. But they posed no threat, Miku-san. A score of players should be able to take care of them."

Miku nodded. "May I suggest that to have Rinsuu and his men take care of them?"

Asuna eyed the female clearer, she didn't like Miku at all but regardless she always seemed to be more than well-informed each time they met. She was like a second Argo except very much capable of more viciousness; the type of person who Asuna rather have as a friend than a foe; a person that she has to keep an eye on all the time.

"Rinsuu, come here!" Asuna barked. The samurai look-alike waltzed forward to the table, a grin embedded in his face. He gave a little salute as if mocking her a little. "How many men do you have?" she asked.

"Eleven, Ma'am."

Asuna glanced at the map then back at Rinsuu. "That's not enough. I'll send a squad with you," she said.

The samurai shook his head. "Me and my men are enough, Ma'am. Best god-damned fighters in all of Aincrad. Orcs are scared shitless of them."

"I can vouch for them," Miku supported with a matter of fact tone. Asuna could have sworn a hint of amusement flashed across Miku's eyes for a moment.

"I don't care; I'm sending you a squad," Asuna snarled. "Kaifa, you and your men are to assist Rinsuu."

A brown-haired player who looked fifteen of age sounded his compliance from his place. Rinsuu didn't say a word and returned to his previous position. Asuna seeing no further protest picked up where she was interrupted.

"Once the walls are breached, our top priorities are to find the safe zones within the labyrinth. These are essential and I want them mapped out as soon as possible. Also, do not engage with the field boss, until a strategy can be formulated to combat it. Any questions?"

The room remained silent and Asuna materialized a quill to mark a cross on the map, near where they would make the assault. The meeting had progressed smoothly so far, a little rough point here and there, but still so smooth that she couldn't help but wonder whether there was an underlying motive beneath the guilds' easy acceptance of the plan. The «**KoB**» was a relatively new guild that forcibly took over operations as the lead guild after «**The Army**» left the front lines. This lead to certain dissatisfactions amongst the other clearing guilds, but the prowess of «**KoB**» leaders quickly gained a marginal line of respect for them.

"How many do we have in Johurst now?" Asuna asked.

Miku answered, "A hundred and forty. Five hundred are arriving tomorrow and the day after that we'll be close to full strength."

Asuna nodded, "This village is too small," she said and pointed to the cross she had drawn earlier. "I want a camp set up here and ready by nightfall. Godfree go inform the Commander of our plans."

"Hai!" A ginger-haired player saluted.

The meeting went on for another hour as more details were explained and orders were given. The camp order was laid out; different guilds designated to areas, patrol schedules planned, quartermasters assigned. By the end of the hour, Asuna dismissed the meeting. The clearers cleared the room in a semi-hazardous fashion, most wanting to get out of the stuffy aired room. Miku gave Asuna a little smirk before leaving, leaving Asuna alone by herself in the room.

Asuna sighed in relief.

* * *

Rinsuu waited at a little diner opposite of the building he was in a few minutes ago. He sat by himself in the corner of the room, tapping his finger on the table in a bored manner. It was only several minutes later when the person he was waiting for entered the room, who immediately spotted him and walked over.

"You don't seem to want me to retire do you?" Rinsuu said, his grin a cocky one.

"I thought that you want to live dangerously while you can?" Miku replied as she sat down at his table.

The samurai chuckled. "By the way, I told little Kaifa to piss' off."

Miku raised an eyebrow, a tiny smirk on her lips. "Now did you, what did he say?"

"Told me I can't disobey direct orders from _Commander-sama_, and then I just gave him the boot."

Miku giggled mischievously, to which Rinsuu was about to cheekily comment on her lack of sympathy, but was interrupted by a NPC waitress. They took a moment to place their orders. Seconds later, a cup of tea and a mug of rum materialized before them. Miku took the mug.

"I thought you ordered the tea?" he asked.

"I was ordering for you Rinsuu," she said, taking a sip of alcohol.

Rinsuu shook his head, the grin of his spreading. He took the cup and gulped all its content in one go and they sat in silence. The diner was relatively empty, a few players catching a late breakfast before continuing to carry out Asuna's orders. It was a few minutes later when the last player left and they were finally alone.

"So, what's the deal?" the samurai asked, and even though the room was empty he lowered his voice in extra caution. "What's the real reason for sending me? Last I checked you have a whole army of lackeys."

Miku took a second to place her mug down before speaking, not lowering her voice unlike him. "I heard a story one day, of a ring," she began, fiddling with her ringless ringers. "Forged from gadolinite, a material of exquisite beauty that is said to have fallen from the Ruby Palace itself. An artifact, if you haven't figure." She held out her right hand so that she could view the back of it. "Once before, it was owned by the Marquis of the fortress, but it was sadly lost when he was slain in a skirmish near the southern wall. A sad waste. But perhaps, possibly, it still lies in that area, by those ridges, right where Asuna-san had ordered you to be." She picked up her mug to finish her drink, her eyes glaring at Rinsuu's in a fixed expression.

Rinsuu laughed. "So what? Diamond rings not good enough for you? If you wanted a proposal from me, just ask me."

The golden haired female giggled, the mischievous smirk returning again. "Nothing is good enough for me," she got up from her seat, "I'm afraid not even you, Jun." She walked towards the exit.

The samurai smirked and called out from behind her. "You know, that's probably the fifth time you broke my heart."

"Don't worry, orcs don't have hearts either."

With that, Miku exited the diner. Rinsuu sat in his seat, the smirk still there and threatening to tear his face apart. Same old Miku. He shook his head. Why did all their conversation have to end like this? He chuckled and pulled out several coins that he kept in a pouch for quick small payments, dropped it on the table and left the diner as well.

He had a raid to conduct.

* * *

**Leave any comments on this chapter, whether you find anything confusing or if you liked it. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sword Art Online, I just own a bag full of fake candy.**


	3. Chapter 3

The farm was small in size. There was a field for crops, a wooden barn that housed the sheep, and a rundown farmhouse where the farmer lived in. The farmer, a middle-age male, walked along the fences that run along the perimeter of his farm, protecting it from unwanted wild animals that might traverse in search of food. He looked up high at the sun, the ball of yellow burning strongly against the blue sky.

Noon had arrived.

From his pocket, he pulled out an age-old briar pipe, the only item of value that he possessed, loaded it with tobacco and then lighted it with a matchstick. The farmer exhaled the dark grey smoke, which escaped unceremoniously to the atmosphere, the damped air making slow and delirious movements. Last night's rain had done his job of watering the plants, so it was a good of any day to lay off. He looked at the group of players that dawdle outside his fence, presumably waiting for someone, he waved at them, they waved back, and he went back to his house.

Shuji watched as the farmer returned to his house down a small dirt track that cut across the crop field. The NPCs in this game were a peculiar thing, they talk and act like any regular person as if they were real human beings, but Shuji knew better than that.

He returned focus to his new sabre that he recently bought in the morning from a player vendor. Its hilt was decorated with the insignia of a roaring griffon; it was supposedly the coat of arms for the once prosperous kingdom that had ruled in these lands. The long curved blade shined brightly against the yellow sunlight. He gripped the handle tightly, enjoying the sense of great balance as he weighed the blade on his left hand. Boosting Shuji's overall **«AGI» **by fifteen points, the **«Florentian»**was quite the upgrade from his previous weapon, which only boosted five agility points. He checked the description again.

**A beautiful blade that was only given only to the officials of the Kingdom of Nor, its steel is said to have been blessed by the High Druid himself. To possessed this weapon itself, brought wide and great admiration from the people. **

"How do like your new toy there?" the short player next to him spoke as he leaned back against the fence.

"It'll do. Sharper edge than any other sword I've seen," Shuji answered, cutting the air in front of him to demonstrate.

Denham laughed. "That's where you're wrong," he unsheathed his own weapon, a heavy cavalry sabre, and handed it over to Shuji. Shuji sheathed his weapon and took the curved blade. It weighed down his arm, but he could feel the strength of the steel, capable of simply crushing any other lighter swords. He touched the blade, smiled, and then handed it back to Denham.

"Heavier, but not as sharp," he said.

"Trust me, this thing can slice through armor as though it was silk. It just needs some work with the grinder, that's all. But at least it's in better condition than the claymore Rinsuu uses; it's more like a giant's toothpick if you ask me."

"I thought he uses a katana?"

"Nah, that bugger wouldn't know how to use a katana if he depended on it. Freaking looks like a samurai, but fights nothing like one."

Shuji nodded as he looked at the others. There were nine of them, excluding him and Rinsuu who had yet to arrive. Konata was with two players, talking, and Shuji couldn't hear their conversation. To their right, a friendly duel occurred between the two mace-users of the group. Shuji watched them as the second mace user managed to sneak a nasty uppercut under his opponent's buckler, the spike mace connected with the player's lower jaw, instantly ending the match.

The group was all in full battle attire, Denham in his silver hauberk, Yaro full-plated armor, Hagman's stuffed brigandine. The three spearmen were fitted with chainmail, and the mace-users suited with leather lamellar.

"Where the hell is Rinsuu?" Hagman barked as he walked up towards Shuji and Denham, behind him followed Yaro, who stood at an impressive height of six foot six. "He tells us all to meet here at eleven, and now he's an hour late. Bloody prick."

"Chill Hag, he'll be here soon," Denham assured.

Shuji folded his arms as he leaned back against the fence. "Is he always this late?"

Denham shrugged. "Not really, he's pretty inconsistent with his punctuality. Anyway, don't worry this fight will be over before it begins."

"Against orcs, I'm not so sure…"

"You think too much, Viator."

Hagman grunted, then spoke, "I get first loot this time. And you," he jabbed at Yaro's abdominal, "keep out of my bloody way, unless you want my mace up your ass."

The giant player said nothing, mindlessly gazing at the air where a small flock of birds flew. Hagman mumbled to himself, obviously a little annoyed for being ignored. The next few minutes went by steadily, some idle chats, bird watching. It was only around half an hour did the black haired samurai made an appearance.

"What took you so long?"Hagman spat.

"A little scouting always helps," Rinsuu replied, beckoning everyone to come closer. He paused for a moment. "According to information brokers, at around mid-afternoon, half the garrison will be out patrolling, leaving only around thirty behind to defend the outpost. So we'll attack. Any questions?"

"You're crazy," Konata growled. "That's still three times our numbers!"

"It's doable, Konata," the samurai said in a matter of fact voice before giving her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry as long as nobody screws around, we'll be fine."

That didn't seem to ease Konata at all and she looked Shuji, her eyes asking for his thoughts. Shuji rubbed his front bangs with his thumb and index finger.

It wasn't uncommon for parties to fight groups of mob many times their number, why, even they'd done it yesterday against the **«Blood Wolves»**. However, orcs were different. They were nomadic people, life was tough, and that toughness shaped them to be a force that no player wanted to face without necessary reasons.

"Thirty seems like a stretch to me," Shuji attempt to reason. "I think we should at least get some more players before we make the attack."

Denham chuckled. "Relax, as long you keep your nerve in check and don't freak out, you'll live."

"I know that, I just think it doesn't hurt to have more players."

Hagman snorted. "We can handle this, no need for some fifteen year old kids help."

Rinsuu nodded in agreement and without further words, he signaled for the group to move out. Shuji felt no point in arguing, and he complied, but the doubts still lingered in his mind. They traveled down along an old gravel road that ran south, with the long river to their left. The occasional farms and fields, belonging to various NPCs, soon disappeared, replaced with the wide expanse of tall green grass. It was not long before they reached a forgotten stone bridge that cut across the lanky river, providing access to the east. The bridge looked as if it could collapse with the slightest of addition of weight.

"Bloody hell, I'd rather swim across than take a step on that pile of rumbles," Hagman growled.

The rest of the group jeered at him and they crossed nevertheless, traversing onto new grounds where the grass soon turned an unhealthy glow of orange and the sun's heat blaring more than ever. Droplets of perspiration dripped from the bodies of the men, getting caught in places such as the rondels for some, creating a wrenched stench of body odor that filled the air.

Shuji noticed Konata's nose crinkled in pointless effort to prevent the smell's infiltration to her nostrils. Sweat. Her experience with it was never favorable, Shuji knew that. Back in the real world, after a game of basketball, she never allowed Shuji to come even a meter within her. He materialized a handkerchief and shoved it under her nose.

"Here," he said.

She looked and stared into his face. "Thank Shuji," she took the handkerchief and covered her nose with it. Shuji took several steps in front, obviously conscious of his own body odor.

They continued on, soon discarding the road and making a sharp cut between the slopes of two small hills. Rinsuu stopped the group before climbing up on top of the hill to their right. He stayed there for a minute before skirting down.

"Let's rest here. Yaro, you take watch up on the hill."

The group relaxed and dropped to the ground while the big player climbed up the hill where Rinsuu was moments ago. To say it was hot day was somewhat accurate, but one could go into more depth and say it was a hot day at the hottest time, when the heat intensity setting of the sun was turned up at its highest. Even the birds flew low, as if fearing that flying any higher will cook them burnt.

"How far to go?" Shuji asked.

Rinsuu smiled. "Not far, we'll be there soon."

Shuji nodded then turned to face Konata. "How're you doing?" he asked.

"I'm fine, but I don't mind if you can carry me," she replied as she ran her hand through her hair.

Shuji smirked. "I don't think I have a high enough **«STR» **stat."

She frowned and punched him hard in the shoulder. No health damage was done since they were in the same party, but it hurt nevertheless. "Ow," he groaned.

"Well then there's nothing stopping me from beating you up!"

They glared at each other, eyes locked, neither player willing to give in to the other. Then they burst into laughter. The whole group looked at the pair and couldn't help but join in as well.

The sun dropped a little as the weather became noticeably cooler and the players brought out their lunch. The group sat together, with Denham leading the way with his jokes, the short player mentioned that he'd used to run a stand-up comedy show in a small diner back in his hometown of Okinawa. Even Hagman who Shuji'd presumed to be the killjoy of the group was chuckling at some of the funnier jokes. Shuji went over to Yaro to bring him food. The big player had been staring up at the birds in the air.

"Those're vultures, aren't they?" he asked, noticing the unusual black streaks of feathers.

"_Coragyps Atratus_ to be exact," the big player replied.

"Sorry?"

"Black vultures," the big player's smile a soft large one. "I've only seen them once before, on a trip to Mexico, magnificent creatures they are. The sight of them really does bring back memories of the real world."

Shuji looked at the big man and then at the others. It was an unspoken rule to speak of the other side here in the game, but he'd noticed that it was a rule that this group didn't seem to care for. They spoke freely, revealing a little detail here and there, of their lives back outside, as if being trap in a game didn't bother them. Shuji scratched the back of his head.

"Hey, isn't it rude to talk about the other side? But you guys seem to not even care."

Yaro didn't answer him immediately, instead he hummed a soft little tune, to which the vultures in the air danced above him. Slowly, he ended the tune with a loud intake of air, before relaxingly exhaling. "Listen Viator, we've been here for several months now, who knows when we'll get out. At some point, you will realize that it doesn't matter anymore. You simply learn to adapt and eventually actually enjoy living here."

"I see."

"Besides, this whole not speaking about the real world crap is just so that people wouldn't feel sad because they're stuck in here while their families are outside."

Shuji nodded. "That's true." He looked briefly back at the others; the samurai Rinsuu was kicking one of the spear users who dared try to steal his sandwich. Shuji wondered whether the samurai shares the same ideals with Yaro, perhaps that was why he was retiring, but it was none of Shuji's business and he didn't press the matter.

He stared at the horizon, where the wide dry land seemed to drop after and a lone wolf ran along the edges, they had rested for an hour already so he guessed that they will be moving out again soon. He continued to watch the wolf as it disappeared into the horizon line, but then it returned moments later, sprinting in a desperate haste, behind it followed…

"ORC SCOUT PARTY HEADING OUR WAY!" Yaro screamed at the top of his lungs. The group below immediately scrambled to their feet, readying their weapons and armor, quickly dematerializing anything unneeded for battle.

"How far?" Rinsuu called back.

"Three kilometers, and closing in fast, they're on horses!"

"Everyone up the hill now!" the samurai barked, materializing his great Scottish claymore. The others immediately complied with the order and ran up the hill to join Yaro and Shuji.

Shuji can see them clearly now. The orc party was comprised of eight riders, each wielding one-handed axe, and donned with dark helmets, breastplates and shoulder pads. Their grotesque face contorted strangely, almost as if their skin was peeling off their rotting flesh. One rider rode ahead, hoisting a ragged black flag high in the air. The scouting party thundered towards the group as Rinsuu quickly placed the three spearmen in the front and the mace-users closely behind them for efficient support. The rest positioned behind.

"Viator, Denham, you guys take the right wing, they'll try to circle us, cut those buggers when they come close. Yaro stick with me. Konata, don't loose till I say so, aim for that fucker with the flag."

Shuji shuffled quickly to his place, drawing his new sabre out of its sheath. The slope uphill wasn't fairly steep, but he hoped that it was enough to slow the horses. A drop of sweat rolled down his cheek.

Two hundred meters.

"Hold it, Konata." Rinsuu said as the riders came within firing range.

Shuji licked his lips.

One hundred meters.

The rider carrying the flag spear-headed the wedge, it grinned, rotten stained teeth in full display as the horse lurched forward.

Fifty meters.

"Now." Rinsuu said calmly and Konata loosed. The glowing arrow tore through the thin air, creating rifts of wind as it traveled at blinding speed before finding home in its target's neck. The rider was thrown back, the horse's reigns yanked along. The horse swerved to the right, crashed into two more riders behind and the remaining five riders broke formation to avoid the danger.

"Great shot!" the samurai cheered.

"Thanks," Konata mumbled as she nocked another arrow and released, downing another rider.

Just as Rinsuu had predicted the riders avoided a direct charge against the spears and darted towards the flanks. The mace-users ran forward and slammed their maces into the horses' sides when they got close, a fairly effective method as the riders veered away before charging again.

Shuji saw a horseman spurred towards him up the slope and he readied his sabre for its first taste of blood. With the touch of the spurs, the orc's horse lunged forward for the killing stroke. Shuji swung his blade at the horse's mouth and the curved sabre connected between the middle teeth. Crackles of bones vibrated through his blade, and the horse reared, sending the rider loose and hurdling down the slope of the hill. Shuji grunted as the shock received numbed his sword arm, but he ran down the hill and delivered the finishing blow whilst the rider was still on the ground.

He turned to face his next foe, but soon opted to stay downhill. Spearheads pierced through the sides of the horses, and orcs pulled from their saddles, as the others made short work of the remaining riders for once unhorsed, they were simply outnumbered and killed easily.

Shuji grinned. "That was quick."

The group went about gathering their loot from their fallen foes, stripping pieces of armor and weapons that could be sold for some amount of Cols.

"Anyone hurt?" Rinsuu asked with a smile.

"Bastard broke my nose again," Hagman growled, his nose already wrapped in a bandage.

"Good, everyone's fine then. We'll move out in five minutes."

The group nodded in unison. The short skirmish wasn't in the slightest tiring, done almost as if it never happened. Such was a regular case when an effective party was formed, where coordination reigned supreme. Rinsuu's group was efficient without a flaw. And Shuji had to admit that in this first fight with Rinsuu's group, he found a strange confidence in them, and now the doubt that he had earlier vanished. He smiled, and then pulled a ragged cloth out to wipe the blood off his sabre.

* * *

The outpost was a small Motte and Bailey castle in disrepair. The once proud palisade that guarded the keep was now in a broken state, with its wood rotting a slow decay. Rubbles of stone dotted the surrounding grassland. The bailey was built on slightly elevated grounds, overlooking the surrounding land with a commanding authority despite its ruinous conditions.

Konata's hand ran through her smooth caramel hair in gentle delicate strokes. At times, she would find herself caring too much for its maintenance more than she'd like to. Perhaps the years spend on consciously avoiding split ends, wasn't just going to be washed off in a few months' time. The ditch they were in was rather broad, and it protected them from sight.

"Shuji," she whispered to the player beside her, "I can't do it. It's too far."

Shuji looked at her with an understanding expression. "Try it anyway."

The objective was simple; capture the keep. For Konata's part, she had to snipe the orc sentry that stood on the rubble of wall, however with the addition of the height of the elevated ground the task proved to be difficult. From their current position, below in the ditch, the distance was near two hundred meters.

"I can't. I'm not accurate from this far."

Rinsuu tapped his fingers on the hilt of his claymore. "Well okay then, try to go closer. But if that sentry spots you, then do your best to kill it before it calls for reinforcements."

Konata nodded and she notched an arrow in preparation. Rinsuu waited a minute before popping his head slightly up above the ditch. He beckoned Konata forward. "Go now," he said briskly.

Immediately she hurled herself over the ditch and sprinted quietly to the nearest tree for cover. Her footstep rustled the dry grass in rapid haste. All the way, she kept her eyes on the sentry who was looking in the other direction. She reached the tree and looked back at the ditch where the others were. Rinsuu's hand gave the go ahead signal and she ran again, this time to the behind of a large boulder that Konata assumed used to be a part of the earthwork of the Motte.

She was much closer now to the sentry, and she judged that it was close enough to shoot. A rare breeze blew, the strands of her hair prancing over her eyes. She breathed in, pulled the arrow back till her arms felt sore, held her breath and released the arrow.

_Shit. _She nocked another arrow.

The arrow had landed on its mark in the chest of the orc, but it wasn't enough to kill it. The sentry cried out in pain and was now yelling in an absurd language as it hopped for cover. She loosed the second arrow and it buried deep in the sentry's head, this time killing it as the body slumped. Konata waited as she expected a score of orcs to flood out in effort to defend the outpost.

But nothing happened.

She waited several more minutes, and still no movement. Was it possible that they didn't hear the cries? Her palms and fingers felt sweaty, and she wiped her hand against her tunic. An archer should always keep their fingers dry. Still nothing.

The others snuck up to her side, careful to keep their metals from clanging. "Are we good?" Rinsuu whispered to her ear.

She nodded warily and Rinsuu gave the forward signal. They crept up the earthwork slowly in a loose line, and even though the temperature had cooled considerably since the early afternoon, Konata still felt the heat that radiated from the others. They paused and crouched behind the rubble of stone.

The fifty meter long courtyard within was guarded by seven sentries, each spread out in considerable distances from each other. At the far end stood the circular keep, the only building not in ruins, and where most of the garrisons are.

"Take them out quick," Rinsuu ordered, before jumping over the rubble and charged towards the closest sentry. The others followed behind.

The sentry shouted a challenge but was immediately silence by Rinsuu's blade stabbed in his mouth. The samurai kicked the orc off with his left foot and his claymore wrung out free with ease. Yaro went for the one on the left, his silver halberd shined brightly and reflected the sun's light onto the eyes of his opponent. The orc shielded its eyes with one arm and didn't saw it coming when the head of the halberd buried itself on its shoulder. Blood sprayed like a hose and the orc felled. The rest of the orcs put up a notable defense but it took only a few more minutes before they were done as well.

"I'll handle this," Hagman said and he smashed the keep's doors with his mace. The old wood gave way and broke to splitters to reveal a tight spiral staircase that spun clockwise to the floor above.

"Viator, you're left handed right?" Rinsuu asked.

"Yes, why?"

"Cos you're going up first."

Shuji didn't ask any more questions and went ahead, followed by the others, and Konata was last, so as to act as a rearguard. Going up the stairs, Konata now understood why Rinsuu wanted Shuji to be first, for the central stone shaft would block and hinder a right handed sword-user.

"Weapons ready," Rinsuu said softly, and the spearmen replaced their spears with swords.

She held her breath as they went up slowly in silence. Surely the garrison would have noticed the commotion in the courtyard, and was prepared for them by now. Worry swept within Konata, and they stopped in front of the entrance of the second floor. A thought of the gruesome creatures that awaited them in the room flashed across her mind. Konata bit her lips. Shuji would be the first to enter, blood will be shed, and she just hoped that it wasn't going to be Shuji's.

"Go." Rinsuu voice echoed down the tight enclosed stairs.

Shuji burst through the door into a spacious room. And Konata could see from behind, orcs with swords and daggers charged at him. Steel clashed with steel as Rinsuu's group pushed into the room. Konata ran in, her dagger in place of her bow, and dug her blade in between the shoulder blades of an orc whose back faced her. The orc bent backward in pain, and she grabbed its head by its chin, and twist, a resounding crack as the neck dislocated. She let the orc dropped to the floor before attempting to retrieve her dagger that was embedded in its back.

More orcs appeared from another circular flight of stairs that led to the turret, adding to the chaos inside the large rectangular room. Rinsuu gripped his claymore by the ricasso, then stabbed the neck of an orc before running back, as the numbers soon started to overwhelm him.

"Everyone, to me!" Rinsuu shouted. The group heard him, and retreated to one end of the room, kicking aside tables and chairs. "Line now!" The eleven players made a crude line, Shuji quickly handed Konata a side sword, and they braced for the impact of the incoming orcs.

Weapons clashed and time seemed to pass a slow one. Players struggled against orcs as the numbers piled on them, but steadily the ferocity of the orcs dwindled and the players pushed back. Yaro swung his halberd in a craze manner, the axe-head drawing blood and sliced an unfortunate limb off. A cry tore the air. Konata parried the strike that came overhead and with her offhand, she punched the face of her assailant. The orc blinked in a daze, and Konata plunged her sword through its chest. She wriggled her blade out, the orc fell to her feet, and she engaged her next foe.

"Stay close guys!"

The group of players pressed forward with momentum, stumbling over the dead bodies of the fallen garrison. Swords cut into flesh, maces cracked skulls, screams sounded. The orcs were down to ten and were now in full retreat up the spiral staircase from whence they came from. With their backs turned, they made easy targets as blades found home, and only a handful escaped successfully, though not for long.

"Up you go again, Viator."

"Got it." Shuji started up the stairs, but paused and turned around, "And Rinsuu, call me Shuji," he said, then went up to the turret.

"Call me Jun then," Rinsuu called out from behind and ran up as well, along with Denham and Yaro.

They returned a minute later, their weapons stained with fresh blood. Grins marked their faces and Rinsuu let out a hearty laugh. Konata smiled and sighed.

It was over.

She slumped down against the wall and looked at the carnage that they had inflicted. The room was repainted with red, and the sunlight pouring in from the two arrow slits brought a feverish sight of the masses of bodies on the floor. Parts of arms, legs, ears, fingers scattered throughout. Konata felt her lunch coming back up her throat and she shut her eyes. It was strange how only after the fight did the appearance of blood bothered her.

_So this is the frontlines huh…_

She let her head leaned back against the hard stone wall. Her ponytail bothered her so she pulled out the hairband, letting the long strokes of caramel hair flow freely.

"You okay?" a familiar voice asked her.

"I'm fine Shuji, just a little tired," she replied, her eyes still closed.

"Same here." She felt Shuji's body sit down next to hers, his long exhale of exhaustion comforting her somewhat. There was a low cry in the room, for one of the mace users was deeply cut in his leg. He would live, if his health bar, which hovered over fifty percent, was any good indicator.

Denham walked about the room, picking up anything that he deemed of value. The others doing the same as the orcs' weapons and armors were stripped off, and their bodies brought up to the turret where they were tossed down to the courtyard.

"Another good day's work, I'm going to miss this," Rinsuu commented cheerfully.

The group smiled as they continued to clean the keep off its little valuables, and in the distance, where the grass grew short, and the roads turned dirt, the tall fortress wall stood.

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own SAO, I just own a small can of beans.**

**I need a beta-reader, so if you are interested please do send me a PM. **

**Well, that's the end of this chapter, be sure to favorite, follow and review, or you can PM if you want. Tell me if there's anything confusing and I will do my best to fix. See ya.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author notes:** Sorry for the long wait.

* * *

It was in an old study room in the castle keep that Rinsuu found a bloodstained parchment.

He had been searching for the **«**** Marquis' Ring**** »**, and found himself breaking through a locked door that the orcs didn't seemed to have bothered with.

The room bathed in an orange light as he quickly located the wall torches and lighted them, revealing a small tight area. There were shelves that lined against the walls, pages of books, quills, and scrolls scattered over the floor. A wooden desk crept at the corner of the room, and next to it a skeletal corpse sat limply on a fallen stool.

"I guess this wasn't a cellar then," he had pondered aloud.

He picked up a piece of strangling paper off the ground. **«A Young Officer's Guide to the Daily Conduct of His Lordship's Army»**, the title read.

The samurai had smiled to himself, no doubt this was one of those books on pseudo leadership, the ones written by men who had yet to even lived a single moment on the battlefield. Experience was what made a soldier, and no amount of fancy theory of conduct can even amount to that.

Then he moved to the desk, and it was there he discovered the parchment. He read it now.

_It was only a mere three months ago, when I walked beside His Lordship, Marquis of Nor, along his great throne room in its lavish architectural styling, and great red curtains that adorned the walls. The throne itself was plated with gold, pure gold, and an assortment of rare gems and jewels was encrusted and ornamented to its arms and legs. _

"_Surely, there's not a finer room built in all the realms," His Lordship had said. I could only agree with him back then. _

_A month later, the orcs became restless, and there were more frequent raids into our lands. They targeted the farms at first, then small pockets of settlement, then eventually entire villages. The orcs ate all kind of meat they came across; sheep, cattle, horses, men. His Lordship ignored the issue._

_Several weeks past, and a rumour came of a large horde of orcs assembling to the east, rallied together by a newly risen Overlord. Naturally, His Lordship denigrated the rumour, for "orcs are the anti-thesis of order and structure." _

_By September, they were knocking on our doorsteps. His Lordship now panicked, but I did my best to maintain order. Old armouries were cleaned, forges rekindled, calls of summons sent out, and within a week and a half, our numbers swelled to three thousands. However these men weren't regulars in the army, the years of peace had grown on us, and we were left with mostly farmers, blacksmiths, and thieves. Despite this, His Lordship was now overconfident of victory._

_And fuelled by understating reports, he had marched the three thousand men to meet the orcs in the field of battle. I had called to remain in our fortress and wait for more men, but my words fell on deaf ears. So I sent my squire Athras west to call for any more volunteers to hasten their pace. _

_It was on deathly marshes that the two forces met. Our men slipped and fell and died as the orcs who were much accustomed to the terrain rained havoc on our lines. The bodies were never recovered and were left to rot in dark murky waters coloured red with blood. We retreated outside the marshlands, and on flatter plains, our army fared much better. Shields locked with shields as the frontlines became a pushing battle, a stalemate as neither side gave way. Our archers loosed arrow after arrow into their ranks, downing as many orcs as they can. The battle raged on for the entire day, so long that some archers had the time to return to camp to replenish their quivers and returned, only to find the fight still ongoing. _

_Our centre held steadfast to the ever surmounting numbers of orcs. I have never seen so many orcs. Ranks after ranks, they climbed over their fallen brethren, and keep running at our lines. At times, it seemed that they almost broke through, only to be repulsed momentarily before they charged again. _

_An orc's ferocity was unmatched, but never have I seen them this stubborn, it was as if they were being controlled against their will by a twisted sorcerer. But now that I think of it, perhaps the new Overlord was indeed a sorcerer. Strong, ruthless, and brutal, an orc is, but it was said that they always feared a higher power. _

_Ages ago, the orcs were once slaves to the Elven nobles of the upper realms, then they were out casted for disobedience and insolence, and ever since, they have wandered from realms to realms, scavenging like the vultures of the air. It was a children's tale taught to all the children of Nor growing up, that those disobedient will turned out to be like the orcs._

_Back to the battle. Our men are getting tired now, evening was creeping by. We were pushed back, and our reserves had been deployed, it seemed that if the situation grew any direr, His Lordship's entourage and I would have to enter the battle soon. Then, to the right of our position, a loud ram horn blew, and the clanging of metals could be heard, a loud united chant ringing through the air. Athras had arrived._

_He brought with him scores of Men-At-Arms on horses, veterans of the past that had retired from active service, and now donned once again old suits of armor for what could be their final duty for Nor. My heart had leapt with joy and the men cheered at the sight, their efforts doubling. The battle could be won! Our reinforcement descended on the orcs' left wing like an old hawk seeking the glory of its youth. Old swords cut into beastly flesh, maces broke shields, orcs died, and the tide of battle almost turned in our favor. _

_Almost._

_I thought it was thunder at first, but then realized it was the sound of hooves. War beasts, they looked like horses except were twice the size, cladded with plate armor from head to legs, bone spikes protruding from their saddles. With its iron-tipped teeth, these beasts could, and will, take a large chunk of a man's head. There were at least a hundred of them, riding out from the horizon like a plague enveloping the land. But the beasts weren't what frightened our men. It was their riders. _

_The men called them __Cabaleiro da Morte__, Death Knights, bodyguards of the orc Overlord. They were only heard in rumors, chalked up in the talks of taverns to be a tall tale. This was my first time seeing them, and now I knew, without a doubt in my mind, that the story of a one-eyed __Cabaleiro__ burning down an entire village on its own was true. I trembled with fear then. Their bodies were painted with red or, if I were to believe all the stories, the blood of their enemies. They donned the thickest of plates that was as black as the deepest pitch; shoulder pads, chest guards, gauntlets, greaves, and ghoulish menpo masks made of tough metal. An assortment of weaponry, axe, mace, spear, bow, hung along the pockets of their war beasts' saddles, my only guess a __Cabaleiro__ was a master-wielder in them all. They rode at us with a roar that silenced our hopes. _

"_Brace! Brace!" I had called for our frontline to hold. _

_But a pitchfork was made for farming. _

_It was like tornado had descended upon us, men thrown left and right, the air became a mixture of dust and blood, where only the echoes of cries reached my ears. I watched in horror as a man with a slashed face tried to flee, only for two arrows to be embedded in his back. The rest of the orcs advance again. It was a slaughterhouse now. _

_The men of the second line faltered, screamed, then ran for their lives. And like an entity sensing panic, the __Cabaleiro__ charged at them. The Men-At-Arms, true to their honor, stayed and fight. But the vultures had picked a good day to fly in the skies. A Men-At-Arm's lower jaw was torn apart when a mace collided with his face. He lived for a few more seconds before being run through by a lance. _

_His Lordship and his entourage panicked before taking flight in a hurry. I followed them for I knew that if we were to stay, we would be lying in this field, dead, by nightfall. I looked back and saw chaos. The battle was already lost._

_His Lordship and his bodyguards, along with several other knights and I, rode west, away from the loss of human lives that would forever haunt our dreams. _

_But then, as if we were cursed for our cowardice, the thunder of hooves sounded again. I turned and saw a score of __Cabaleiro__ chasing us. They caught up almost instantly, and a skirmish ensued. His Lordship's bodyguards crowded around him in a circle, forming a barrier of horses, armor, and steel. But to the agents of Death, they were like children holding hands, and they tore the circle apart. I stood my ground as a sword came swinging at my head. My shield arm went numb and it remained so even as I write this account, and I fell off my horse. I ran before the finishing blow came, then froze when I saw a golden sash slashed apart._

_His Lordship was dead._

_I ran to his body as it fell from his horse. An axe had slashed across his neck, exposing the veins that once flowed with royal blood. All was lost. Then a glimmer of light attracted my attention to his hand. It was His Lordship's ring of beauty gadolinite, passed down from the lines of rulers of Nor. I tried to pocket the ring, for I would not let the heritage of our people be lost, but my hands slipped and the ring was lost in the blood. I started to run again. _

"_Run fast!" A bodyguard called out to me before a war beast took a piece of his shoulder. A sword ran through his chest, and he toppled to the ground. I took his horse and fled. _

_At fifty paces, I turned and looked once more at the carnage. The remaining bodyguards died under the blades and arrows of the __Cabaleiro__, and the once proud guards were no more. Fear knotted in my stomach when I saw that they had noticed me fleeing. I saw a __Cabaleiro__ raised his bow at me, but was stopped by a one-eyed __Cabaleiro__. The one-eyed monster instead hurled a round object at me and it landed in front of my horse. I puked. It was His Lordship's dismembered head. The one-eyed __Cabaleiro__ gave me a sick grin and I yanked the reins and fled once more. _

_They didn't pursue me as I had expected. I soon reached Stonewall keep, where I now write this account, and have barricaded the study room. The orcs have trapped me here, thus with no way to escape, I write this journal as the memorial of Sir Ecwook, Marshall of Nor, last of His Lordship's army, that whoever so find it, may know of the terror of the orcs. And let those with a heart and mind judge us for our final and disastrous failure…_

The last sentence was scrawled off. Rinsuu cursed. The ring wasn't here.

"Fuck, Miku is going to kill me."

* * *

Asuna stared at the impassive curtain walls from the ridge she stood. The orcs had set up their defenses well, springald on ramparts, double portcullis doors, an impregnable gatehouse guarded by dozens of orcs with their crossbow and bows, sky-reaching towers with yet more crossbowmen at the slits. This was the clearers first time sieging, and they were in for a tough fight.

The siege works had commenced several hours ago; it was afternoon now. The sappers went to work, digging a mine under the walls. Works on the catapults, trebuchets, and ballistae was delayed shortly when a wheel of the cart carrying the wood needed came off loose. Stakes were driven into the slopes of the ridge, and a unit of cavalry was stationed nearby who would protect the engineers from the occasional bands of orcs that would sally out to harass them as they continued their work.

Eric Laennac, an engineering graduate, supervised the proceedings. Asuna wished it was someone else, for the graduate could be described as rather eccentric. Most of the conversations they shared were about rocks, timber, and ropes; essential building materials that Asuna found Laennac always complaining of their lack. Laennac was also an enthusiast for history and would never stop with his reference to medieval times. Nevertheless, she admitted that the player was good in his job, being the Second Lieutenant of the Engineer Guild, and one of the few clearers with several years of real life experience in that field.

While the Engineering skill had only a level cap of 250 to master, it was certainly a menial task that most players didn't want to commit effort to, leading to a low population of skilled engineers in SAO. To level it up, one would have to construct houses, bridges, roads, all of which took a considerable amount of time. But the higher the level, the more articles of construction can be build, siege weapons being one of the top tier unlocks, provided that the player have gathered the sufficient materials, which has often proved to be very costly. On the plus side though, engineers are paid well, especially since the price for custom build houses have been on the rise lately as more people settle in Aincrad for perhaps the years to come.

Asuna walked over to one of the catapults that had just finished being constructed. A player in his late twenties to early thirties motioned her over. He was of average height, thin face and sharp-eyed.

"Ah, Commander-san, you're just in time," Eric Laennac said jubilantly. He wore the red and gold livery of the Engineer Guild. "Care for a demonstration?" He nodded at the mangonel.

"Go ahead," she replied.

Laennac turned to the mangonel's crew of five, who wore Engineer liveries as well. "Alright Sergeant, you heard Commander-san. Not full power though, we don't want to be hitting the walls just yet."

The sergeant nodded. "Drag! Half strength only!" he barked. Two muscular players went and turned the handles on either side of the mangonel, and the rope twisted tightly, the wooden frame vibrating a little under the tension. It was a clumsy attempt at first for the two players were not turning the handles in unison, resulting in the mangonel shaking fervently. Then only after some corrections from Laennac, did the arm came down before the sergeant stopped them when it was halfway to ground level, then a restraining rope was hooked on to the beam to prevent the arm from recoiling upwards. "Load!" the sergeant's voice rang in the air and the remaining crew filled the giant-sized bowl with rocks, pebbles, and stones. The sergeant looked expectantly at Laennac.

Laennac glanced at Asuna, who gave a nod, then turned to the sergeant again. "You may fire, Sergeant."

"Fire!"

The restraining rope was cut with an axe, and the mangonel's arm shot forward with a crack. The rocks rocketed through the sky close to a sixty degree angle, reaching the optimal height at fifteen meters off the ground before descending in thunderous velocity like meteorites and crashing into the ground, just short of the curtain wall, kicking up a heinous volume of dust. Asuna imagined the orcs on the walls were on alert now, and she could almost see the faintest of movements on top of the ramparts.

Laennac patted the frame of the mangonel with a gloved hand. "Commander-san, you just witness the might of the Mangonel, one of the earliest of siege equipment invented, and by far my favorite." He grinned, and Asuna sensed that a history lecture coming up. "Unlike the trebuchets, the mangonel launches projectiles at a lower angle, thus making them more suitable in taking down castles' walls. It is also often confused by many to be the same thing as an onager, what the Romans used in their sieges. It's not the same, I tell you! Although both generate power through rope tension, an onager uses a sling, not a fixed bowl! Keep that in mind, Commander-san."

Asuna rolled her eyes, then saw the graduate opened his mouth to speak again. "How many of these are built already?" she hastily asked, hoping it would change the topic.

Laennac paused for a moment before answering, "Around seven so far. Works on the trebuchets have stalled because we are out of timber, again. Seriously Commander-san, you should know-"

"What about the ballistae?" she tried to change the topic again.

"Oh, they're done, all twenty of them." The graduate smiled.

"Twenty!" Asuna almost shouted that. "Laennac, there's only eight hundred clearers, and there's over two thousand orcs, I can't spare much players to man these _machines_."

Laennac took a step back, his face white with disbelief. "I beg your pardon Commander-san., but these _machines_ have turned the tide of numerous of battles in the past, and I will say that they would do so now as well."

Asuna felt no used arguing. She muttered for him to carry on, and turned to leave, but was stopped by Laennac.

"Wait, there's one more issue, Commander-san."

"If it's another history lesson, then forget about it," she said coldly.

The graduate laughed. "No, no. Actually the saps have run into some problems," he said.

This got Asuna's full attention and she nodded for him to continue.

"Bedrocks. The fortress is built on one huge hunk of them. The sappers can't dig past it, their pickaxes keeps breaking, which I should remind you that we are already running low on crafting supplies. So I regretfully inform that until we receive more materials, we can't mine the walls. An engineer's job is only inhibited by the materials he is given, you know."

Asuna frowned. It was not that she was withholding the supplies, but they were just hard to come by. The forests in the 22nd Floor was all already cut down, and it was estimated to take a month before they grew back. The Army did their best to supply them with iron ores from the mines of the 1st Floor, but it still took time for them to be transported because the closest village to the frontline, Johurst, didn't have a «**Teleport Gate**», and there were only a limited number of players high enough level to traverse the dangerous roads of this floor.

Moreover the costs are weighing down on the clearers immensely, NPC woodcutters and miners to pay, transport carts to build, not to mention the huge amount of waste generated because of unprofessionalism. Non-stop dungeon raiding yielded favourable loot, however these mainly went to individual players' pockets rather than the guilds' coffers. An efficient tax must be implemented, Asuna thought.

"But at least one good thing have come out of this ordeal," Laennac continued, breaking her out of her thoughts.

Asuna raised an eyebrow. "And that is?"

"You haven't realized? It's simple geography, Commander-san."

"Explain."

"Water. A fortress is meant to withstand months, or even years of siege, which means having adequate access to water. Do you follow me now?"

"No, I don't."

Laennac sighed. "People back then didn't have pipes, right? So how did they get water instead?"

"Wells?" Asuna said hesitantly.

"Correct! And how are wells made?"

"You dig them till you reach groundwater of course." Then realization hit her like a bolt of lightning. "The bedrocks! If we can't dig past them then the people who build this fortress can't as well."

"Bingo." The graduate grinned. "If they can't access the groundwater, where do they get their water supply from?"

"The river. They must have built some sort of tunnels where the water can flow in." The excitement of a breakthrough dawned upon Asuna.

"And that's what we have to find, then send a squad and we're inside the fortress. Simple as that. "

Asuna smacked her knee. "You should have told me that first!" she snarled.

"But then you wouldn't have care for the Mangonel!" His smile was still there. "You know Commander-san, you really should enjoy the game, at least while we're trap in here. It's like living through history! Well, except for all the orcs and fantasy elements, but those are exciting too. And while I have no doubt that one day you'll be the one who leads us out of this game, Commander-san, I can't say that I will ever experience anything like this in the real world." He gave a small slap to her arm. "So live a little!"

Asuna blinked her eyes. She hadn't expected that from Laennac, and she stared dazedly at the engineering graduate, wondering was there actually more to him than what the eye see. Then she spoke, "So where would you search for this entrance?"

"I'll start searching near the western walls, the river is at its closest there," he replied.

"Got it."

She left after that. She shuffled within her in-game menu, messaging for a party to be organized immediately. It was still early afternoon, and the sun was shining bright. Asuna looked up in the sky. Live a little, huh? Kayaba was sitting somewhere on his throne in this world, and the orcs were waiting behind the fortress walls. There was too much to be done.

But she had found a way in, and was taking another step towards the end of this game.

* * *

An arrow hit its mark in the red of a target crudely painted onto a tree stump. A second arrow was loosed and it hit two centimetres above the previous one. Konata lowered her composite bow and looked around her. She was in an archer's training ground within the clearers' camp, some of the trees were chopped down and their stumps used as targets, scarecrows and other dummies were set up as well. There was a group of ten archers in here when she first came to practice; now it seemed everyone had left.

Konata scrolled down her menu, the time read: 13:57. It's been an hour. She took many steps back and checked she was around two hundred meters away from her target. She was, and she took an arrow from her back-quiver. It was a barbed arrow, narrow-headed, and sharp and strong enough to pierce clean through leather armour. She laid it across her bow-stave and trapped the arrow with her left thumb, hooking her other thumb to the feathered end and the chord. Her eyes were set on the red in the centre of the target. Then with little effort, she drew the cord all the way to her right ear.

A light wind blew from the east, and Konata adjusted her aim a little to the right. She would kill with her bow, and they will be free from this game. She released.

The arrow flew true, then curved in its flight, and struck home in red, its steel-tipped head burying deep within the wood.

Konata didn't celebrate. She drew another arrow and loosed again. Fifty more times she shot; no hesitation, just like she had taught herself. She told herself she would live to see the end of this game, return to her family, and protects those she loved. But she had doubted her abilities to live, doubted she could return to her family, and doubted all else. That's why she has been training for the past few days, as she cannot let her fears of doubts hinder her in battle. Her fears weren't needn't in the frontlines, if an orc archer could draw a bow eleven times a minute, then she would do double the amount.

Twenty-seven missed shots, she counted, the rest hit their mark. Not good enough.

She ran up to the stump and collected her arrows, and then positioned herself in the same spot earlier. Another fifty shots and another twenty-seven miss. She repeated. She would get this perfect, no less. It was a requirement she demanded on herself.

Her thoughts kept returning to the PM she received from Rinsuu a couple of days ago.

[**We've got another mission. A group of scouts have discovered some old waterworks that leads to inside the fortress. Our job is to go down there, get inside the fortress, and take the orcs by surprise in the rear. Lots of fun. We move out in a week, stock up on necessary items. See ya.] **

She had never taken part in a large scale raid before; it was always quests and safe grinding before. The prospect frightened her. Something was going to go wrong, she knew it, something disastrous.

Her thoughts wandered to her home; the three roomed villa she lived in with her parents and little sister, the small backyard where her mother planted lilies and aralias, her father's study room which she remembers watching her father as he worked away on some important documents (he was a lawyer), all were still fresh in her memory. She missed her room the most. It had two beds - one for her and the other for her sister -, a gaming laptop, and a box where she kept all her games. She realized how much she missed it after spending so many nights in different inn rooms, tents, or even abandoned wagons. Shuji lived across the street.

Heavy beats of sweat were now dripping down from Konata's forehead, at times it ran past her eyelids and she wiped them off with the sleeves of her tunic. Her arms grew weary, and they felt as if they would collapse any moment, but she held on and kept shooting. She couldn't feel her fingers; they were bleeding, and had gone past the stage where the numbness overcame the pain. The arrows weren't hitting their target anymore because she couldn't hold the bow-stave steady for more than a second, yet she just kept shooting, as if by not stopping she would have already completed the game and be back in the real world. She wasn't thinking, her mind was too tired to think.

It was on her seventh continuous set without break that she collapsed midway. She laid there, facedown, bow still in hand and an arrow in another, panting more heavily than a man desperate for air. SAO was too real of a game. Fatigued and stamina was one of those things that depended not on stats but on the willpower of a player. She guessed her willpower was not enough then.

Slowly, she pushed herself up. Her vision was out of focus, and everything was a blurry mess. She didn't care though; she would just aim for the stump in the middle.

"What's my count?" she asked herself.

And a voice answered, "Thirty-nine."

Konata spun, then caught herself before she fell as a wave of dizziness washed across her head.

"Woah, hold it, Konata. It's just me."

She squinted her eyes at the owner of the voice, and then slowly, Shuji's face came to focus.

"What're you doing here?" she asked before turning to face the stump, bringing her bow to eye-level once again.

Shuji placed a hand on her arm, and she relaxed her stance at his gentle touch. "You need a break. Here's a hint, every time you collapse in exhaustion, you need a break."

She shrugged. "After this set."

He sighed and walked over to a fallen log where he sat and watched her. She finished her set in a minute, and joined him, sitting down next to him.

"Here have this," Shuji said, tossing a stale piece of bread. She caught it with both hands and bit down almost immediately. It was strange how the sight of food made her be filled with hunger, while before all she had felt was tiredness.

"How long have you been watching me?" Konata asked with a mouth full.

"When you started your fourth set. I saw you collapse, and was about to help you, but then you got up again."

"It's rude to stalk people, you know." She rubbed her boots against the grass in attempt to clean it.

"It's not stalking if you know the person."

"It's a joke, Shuji." Konata sighed. "So what are you doing here? I told you that I will meet you at five, surely you don't miss me that much."

Shuji shook his head. "More like to make sure you don't kill yourself from overtraining. You're possessed, Konata, those crossbowmen from DDA tells me that you been like this for the past few days. You know I'm worried."

"It's this raid," Konata said, her eyes wandering to the skies. The sun bore down and she flinched away in response. "I have a bad feeling about it."

"Aa." Shuji leaned back into his shoulders, "So you feel it too."

"You feel it too?" she asked.

"Perhaps almost every day since we were trapped here. It's like you keep telling yourself that you are going to live, but deep down you know you're going to die."

She gazed into the side of his face which was looking up at the sky. His usual stoic expression was in place, the expression that hides a thousand thoughts, yet displays none.

He continued, "You know, this isn't the first time we had this conversation."

"It isn't?"

"Yeah, several times now, but for some reason you just keep forgetting."

She narrowed her eyes. "I didn't forget. It's just that I'm serious now."

"You say that every time."

"I'm not joking."

"You say that too."

She stood up. "You don't understand, do you?"

Shuji sighed. "Not really, but you need to relax. Like I said, I worry almost every day, yet we're still here and not in coffins. Thoughts are after all just thoughts; some of them are best ignored."

"Shuji I can't," Konata said, her eyes locking with his brown ones. "I'm more worried for you than me, to be honest. Ever since that encounter with that Blood Wolf, I am reminded that I can't always…" She lost her words.

"Rely on me?" he finished for her.

"…Yes." Once again Shuji read her mind. It was as if he was holding her brain in a crystal ball. She could not hide anything from him, but she knew he would give her space if she wanted. He understood her.

Shuji smiled at her. It was an apologetic smile. "What was it that you told me in Day 1?"

Konata thought for a moment, and then giggled as she remembered, and said, "Don't worry, Shuji; I'll guard your ass while you go cry in a corner." Those words struck a bell as she said them out loud. It was strange now that she realized how much her resolve has crumbled since then. Shuji always knew what to say.

"Well who's crying now?" he laughed.

"I'm not crying." She punched him lightly in the shoulder.

"It's a joke, Konata," Shuji said, earning another punch from her. "Anyway, you know what I mean."

"I do."

"And?"

"And nothing," she said, "I'm hungry now, let's go get something to eat."

"Mood swings, huh?"

"Shut up, let's go."

She turned to leave, but was stopped when Shuji called her.

He tossed to her a small round object. "Here, take that. It's for good luck."

It was a ring, with ornamental prongs and a silver shank, upon which was engraved with strange letters that Konata didn't recognize. But what drew her attention the most was the ring's centre stone, which was barely larger than her middle finger. A faint glow of lilac purple illuminated its middle before fading to black in the outer edges. It was beautiful, like a flower-head encased in dark crystal. She checked the item's description.

«** Marquis Ring of Nor**»

**Durability: **35/35

**Base Def: **5

**Rarity: **1500

**Attributes: **

24 «**STR**»

27 «**AGI**»

+5 «**Natural Healing**»

**The Kingdom of Nor in its long history has prospered due to its fertile lands and trade with the other realms. However, it had not forgotten the traditions of their tribal ancestors, such as the retention of a High Druid who guards the people faiths in the imps that blesses the crops of the field and fruits of trees. The kingdom was governed by a Marquis and his choice of advisors. **

**This ring was crafted by the hands of the High Druid himself, it represented the hopes and rights of the people, and it was given to the First Marquis, who passed it on to his descendants. As such it became tradition at every coronation of a new Marquis, that rather than presenting the staff and crown, the High Druid would fit this ring in the Lord's hand. **

Konata looked at Shuji. "Where did you get this from?"

Shuji stood up from the log and walked over. "I found it when we did that outpost raid. It was in a pile of bones and carcasses that I assume was what is left of an orc's meal."

She narrowed her eyes. "Why were you even looking there?"

He shrugged. "I saw something shining and checked it out. I was pretty excited when I found this."

"Pretty excited? This ring has 1500 rarity! That will fetch at least a million Col."

"So are you keeping it or not?" Shuji asked.

Konata paused as she examined the ring further, then she fitted it on her right hand. The sunlight reflected brightly against the centre stone. "How does it look?" she asked, showing it to Shuji. "Doesn't suit me right?"

"Actually it looks good on you, I like it," he replied.

"I don't like purple that much. But it's a million Col so I'll keep it. Come let's go already."

"Alright."

They left the training area with smiles on their faces. However, the worry of upcoming raid still hadn't completely left Konata's mind, it was like an itch, constantly reminding her of its presence and refusing to allow her to relax. But she was doing her best to ignore it.

* * *

**Author notes: **I apologize again for the long wait. But anyway, please feel free to tear apart this chapter as I need to know what I did wrong. I noticed that there are some problems with this chapter but needed some extra eyes before I can be sure.

Well, that's the end of this chapter, be sure to favorite, review, or PM me if you want. See ya.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author Notes: **Sorry for the long wait. The next update should be faster.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Sword Art Online, I just own a problem of procrastination

* * *

The night for Asuna had mostly consisted of reviewing and making minor adjustments to the tomorrow's battle plans. Her desk in her tent was scrawled over with papers, quills, and scrolls. She had asked to be undisturbed for the night, and had taken measures such as informing the two guards outside her tent to ensure just that. A red ribboned scroll was in her hand, a list of names was written in it. This was the list of players who had volunteered to be the first to assault the fortress walls, each of them promised with a huge reward. There were sixty-two of them in total, and the group was given the name; The Forlorn Hope, in reference to the band of soldiers chosen to take the leading part in a military operation during musket-loading era. Laennac's idea, Asuna grimaced.

Kirito. That name stood out in particular.

Next to it was scribbled a cross, signifying that the player did not belong to a guild.

"Still a lone gun, huh?" Asuna pondered aloud.

She put the scroll away after scanning the rest of the names. A sergeant Dryden from **«DDA» **would lead this makeshift company. He was one of their trainers, an excellent person in keeping order as Lind had put forward, so Asuna picked him among a list of other candidates after careful consideration, and he would be a captain by tomorrow night, of course that is if he survives.

A lot of the Forlorn Hope would die, this was unavoidable. Asuna had never commanded a siege before but she knew those first to scale the walls are at the most risk. She tried to detach herself emotionally from the names, but the thought of giving the order that would send players to their deaths was frightening. It was necessary, she told herself. But she didn't believe her words.

The candle on her desk flickered as Asuna stood up suddenly. Then she strode towards the door of her tent and exited.

"I'm going for a walk," she said to the guards.

"Do you need an escort, Commander-sama?" one of the guards asked. He was the taller one and was equipped with a Norse helmet, a grey and white tabard, and a broadsword.

"No I don't, but thanks for the offer."

The guards nodded in unison, and she left their presence.

The night was a starless one. The moon was the sole illuminator, but even it was doing a lackluster job in its half form. Most of the players were still wide awake, catching a late supper and cracking some jokes around fireplaces in front of their tents. Now was the time for pre-battle rituals, and even the least superstitious of players found themselves kissing their lucky toe. Asuna walked towards a group of fellow **«KOB» **players eating. They jerked up and saluted when they saw her coming from the distance, with smudges of stew still in the corner of their lips. She put them at ease, and then asked to join them, to which they accepted of course. After supper, Asuna watched as each player went to tend for their equipment, ensuring that they were in pristine condition for tomorrow. Swords were grinded against the grindstones, shields shined, and loin cloths to be worn underneath armours laid out.

Asuna took a player's gladius with his permission and put a thumb to the edge. "How do you get it this sharp, Lewis-san?"

"Work on it every day, ma'am." The player named Lewis took his blade back and pushed it carefully into its scabbard. Lewis was an American in his thirties who had migrated to Japan in his youth. He had the aspiration to be a manga artist after being taught how to draw by his local neighbours.

"The work will certainly pay off tomorrow," Asuna said.

"Yeah, it'll gut orcs like fish."

"Yeah…"

She returned to her tent soon after some more chatter with some other players. Back to the papers and planning. The clearers' army was organized into companies of around sixty men; four companies of halberdiers, three armoured swordsmen, two units of cavalry, one band of shock infantry, and an additional two comprised of crossbowmen and archers. Twelve companies in total, thirteen including the Forlorn Hopes, with the five major clearing guild leaders in command of several of them bunched into divisions such as the Artillery Division who was led by Laennac.

After an hour, she organized the papers and scrolls neatly in a small chest beside her makeshift bed, and then settled in said bed and tried to sleep. The air felt hot, but nothing she could do there, there was no air conditioner in SAO. Her eyelids felt restless as if simply refusing to close. It was suddenly cold now, too cold, and she hugged herself for warmth. She tossed and turned, then got up and went out the tent again. She could never sleep the night before a raid.

So instead Asuna went out of the silent clearers' camp and rode down to the river in her grey war stallion. The water gleamed in pale reflection of the moon and it was as still as glass. Asuna slid from her saddle and sat down by the riverbank, dipping her feet into the coolness of water. She unsheathed her rapier, which had a rounded crossguard, silver hilt padded with leather, and a long slender blade of steel. It was player-crafted, by a good friend of hers named Lisbeth. She began to clean it in the river.

Her thoughts wandered to Rinsuu's group who she had sent to infiltrate the underground water tunnel. To be honest, she wasn't sure whether they would succeed, but they were all she could spare to send because the tunnels were too small. Eleven players in the midst of thousands of orcs, it sounded like an impossible odd. Still though, Asuna knew the samurai Rinsuu was a lucky player and a soft nudging feeling deep down told her that she would see that smug grin of his again. She was also informed that his group had a recent of addition of two players whose names she couldn't remember, or had she even asked for? It didn't matter though.

Her rapier was now sparkling with water running down its blade before dripping off at its point. She retrieved a worn rag from her belt pouch and wiped the weapon dry. Then she rammed it in its sheath and returned back to camp. Asuna barely slept that night.

* * *

Asuna was up before the horns made from goats' tusks woke the rest of the clearers. Some players were awake with Asuna as well, but most begrudgingly got up, rubbed their eyes, and then trudged to the nearest watering hole to wash their face. The officers tried their best to act as if the day was just like any other day on the frontlines, disguising the nervousness they felt about the upcoming battle on this day. Sergeants went from tent to tent, searching for anybody still flat on his or her bed. They found a handful, and these players were immediately sent for an early morning run thrice round the camp, whose perimeter stretched for a kilometer.

After an hour, breakfast was being cooked in small pots hung over fireplaces; stale bread softened by hot water. The NPCs in Johurst sold tealeaves in bountiful amounts, and thus the morning's menu included boiled cinnamon tea to which many players were grateful for. Asuna preferred coffee, but she couldn't resist accepting a steaming cup herself.

The guild leaders sat together outside Asuna's tent, eating and, at the same time, overlooking the other players.

"Eight hundred doesn't seem like it's enough," Klein said. He was in charge of the reserves.

"Agreed," Lind responded, "our numbers were halved when The Army left the frontlines."

Miku pitched in, "Seventy-three floor to go, including this one. Eight hundred out of the potential thousands of players this game was designed to hold, we won't last very long. That's why I've proposed before that we should start training those in the Starting City. It'll certainly be more beneficial for us if they aren't like sitting ducks."

"Miku, we had this discussion before. We can't do that!" Klein said, raising his voice. Miku stayed silent.

Asuna chewed on her bread. She was outfitted in red and white, the signature colours of the Knight of the Blood Oath, and wore a small breastplate that was fitted to her slim figure, iron shoulder pads, and a leather belt that clung to her waist.

She said, "I'm with Klein on this. But regardless, we'll have to make do with what we have now. The most important issue today is that the players stay disciplined, order is needed to be kept." She was worried of players becoming ungovernable once they breached past walls, feasting themselves on the mass hoard of loot that lay within the fortress. Orcs were notorious for hoarding precious gems, materials, and anything metal. Players would take what they could find even items of little use to them because anything, even a small pity cooking pot, could fetch some Cols when sold. Asuna quickly added, "We've drilled them enough."

"I doubt marching drills will do much when scaling a thirteen meters wall. But yes, it comes down to the players' discipline. We've never done a siege before. I bet most players will be confused as to what to do, like we are," Lind said.

Several nods among the leaders.

The clearers' army marched out at eight o'clock. Iron feet stomped on ground like the sound of a hammer beating metal. Asuna sat astride on her armoured grey stallion as it trotted down the gravel road ahead of the marching players. By her side rode her aide-de-camp, and behind them marched four cohorts of players, in full plated armour, the axe-head of halberds bouncing back and forth in the air as each step were taken. The armoured swordsmen came next, with their broadswords sheathed, and bucklers at hand. Then followed the crossbowmen and archers, quivers by hips, pointed helmets fasted tightly to every one of their heads. The two units of cavalry rode by the infantry's either flanks, their role was to patrol the army column as it advanced towards the fortress of Nor.

The army was ununiformed, with each player flashing the colours and insignia of their own guilds. However, every face shone with the same determination to clear the dungeon and tackle the impossible task of completing the game.

The army soon abandoned the road and veered north, cutting past old farms and fields, towards where the siege equipment had been built and lay waiting for orders to fire. Laennac, along with the rest of the Engineer Guild, was already there long before the army arrived. He was ensuring that the stockpile of projectiles was sufficient to rain death upon the enemy, and it was. A quick calculation told him that a mangonel could fire six times a minute, a trebuchet three, and a ballista eleven. With a total of thirty-five siege weapons, the rate of fire would peak at two hundred and ninety-two projectiles per minute, and the engineers could sustain that for an hour before needing to replenish from the stocks. Furthermore, someone came up with the ingenious idea of training NPCs to reload the siege engines, thus only one player was required at each machine.

At ten, Asuna gave the order to fire. And at ten fifteen, the barrage of rocks, stones, and bolts, began.

The orcs on the curtain walls must have been taken by surprised. For they were still sitting eating scraps of meat that was their breakfast when the first boulder slammed into the wall, knocking several dozens of them off the ramparts as they were caught unbalanced. The alarm horn blew, and the orc defenders scrambled to position; crossbowmen shuffled to the arrow loops, springald loaded, piles of rocks and stones stacked to throw down on any attacker who attempts to scale the walls.

Most clearers' army stood waiting in front of the ridge where the catapults fired from. The Forlorn Hope, in column formation, was the closest to the fortress. Then behind them, led by General Heathcliff, was a mix division of armoured swordsmen and halberdiers who would be the main assault, carrying ladders and grappling hooks. The two companies of archers and crossbowmen—positioned on the flanks and commanded by Miku—would support their advance. The rest of the army hid behind the ridge with no specific instructions except to hold and react to any unforeseen changes to the battle.

Still the siege weapons fired on. Restraining ropes cut, slings dragged, rocks hurled and flew, and boulders crashed. The engineers and NPCs worked tirelessly, bringing up projectiles, reloading, and firing. All shots were coordinated at the right flank. Asuna had ordered two breaches be made; one right, one left. This was so that the orcs would be confused as to where to amass before the Forlorn made their attack. Now each shot echoed a wild noise of wood straining and stretching, and each strike against the walls would start a trill of stones and dust. Rocks after rocks slammed home, their impact reverberating throughout the battlement, throwing yet more orcs off the ramparts. The ballistae, unlike the mangonels and trebuchets, targeted defenders, picking them off from the distance with its bolts.

It was at around midday that Laennac let the engineers rest, and then changed the artillery's approach. He ordered the mangonels to lower their aim slightly so that the rocks would strike against the base of the wall instead. And to the trebuchets, he ordered them to target the gatehouse to flush out the defenders that hid within. After twenty minutes, the right section of the wall braced for the fresh onslaught of projectiles aimed at its foot. It endured briefly for about half an hour before a hundred pound boulder punctured a hole through it and suddenly the bricks above were collapsing onto the ground. The fallen bricks made a ramp of rubble that led up and through the new thirty metre gap of the curtain wall, which a player could climb with nothing more than his weapon and armour.

A loud cheer and some claps of success echoed throughout the clearers' lines. Then the engineers turned to the left flank of the wall. The process was repeated. Shots aimed low and reloading done fast. The left section lasted for twenty minutes.

The gatehouse was also reduced to a blubbering mess, the ramparts littered with dead masses of defenders. The springald tried to fire back at the clearers but they were overmatched by the superior number of ballistae.

Asuna smiled. She stood on a wooden stand constructed on a high point of the ridge where she could observe the fortress in its entirety. "All is going well," she said to her aide-de-camp, who was a bright young lady around Asuna's age with dark hair and round brown eyes.

"Yes it is, Commander-sama," the aide replied. "Perhaps it's time to send the Forlorn Hope?"

Her smile disappeared. "Not yet, I think Laennac still wants more of the action."

The aide nodded.

The mangonels continued to fire. The engineers were trying to flatten the slope of the breach, and more rocks pounded at the base of the rubble and at times would ricochet upwards and strike the ramparts, knocking yet more defenders. After another hour, the bombardment stopped, and an engineer from Laennac's crew rode up to Asuna.

"Commander-sama, Lieutenant Laennac says the breaches are practicable," the player said, 'practicable' meaning that the slopes, in an engineer's judgment, are climbable.

"Thank you very much," she responded, and the player left. Asuna turned to her aide. "Sound the signal. May Fortune guide us from here onwards."

A nod, then a sharp wave of a silver hand flag, and then the sound of horns blowing in the distance. The ranks of players shuffled upon hearing, the cheers and claps dissolving back to seriousness and resolve.

The wait was over, and now, the assault truly begins.

* * *

The water tunnel was lined with old bricks, cobwebs, and murky green moss. Water flowed through a man-made trench that was dug to divert from the river. It was dry season, and the water only reached the ankles of the eleven players that traversed in there. A rat screeched and scurried away at the sound of footsteps splashing. The air, of course, smelt damp and wet with little circulation. The group trudged in a single file, Rinsuu leading the way. He held a wooden torch in his hand, which burnt brightly and illuminated the otherwise dark tunnels.

It had been only twenty minutes since they entered and Konata already hated being there.

"Very RPGish don't you guys think?" the samurai called out to those behind him.

"Well, this is a RPG game. And only you like this sort of things; darkness in dungeons," Denham, who was third in the line, said.

"It's beautiful; we've got a torch, a party, weapons, armours, and now all we need is a mutated rodent that attacks us. Hey Konata, tell us where we are now."

"Two separate tunnels are coming up, the scouts hasn't map beyond that," Konata said, in her hands was a map given to her by the scouting team that discovered this area.

"A fork in the road, eh?" the samurai rubbed his chin. "Which do you suggest we take?"

"Let's reach there first."

Ten minutes later they arrived at the crossway, where the ceiling was lower and the water tunnel branched off into two smaller ones. Both looked identical. However it was unanimous to go right for the group had entered from the west and their goal was south. 'Find an exit as close to the southern walls as possible' was one of their instructions. Shuji and Konata were sent to scout ahead nevertheless.

Konata followed behind Shuji. He had been quiet the whole time, and she wondered what he was thinking. He looked as if he was in a daze, a cloud of solemnness enshrouding his person. She tapped him on the shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"Nothing actually, I just want you to say something," she said.

"Say what?"

"Anything." She had wanted to calm her nerves, and Shuji's voice was the first thing she thought of that might do the job. It did somewhat, and she pushed him to talk more, "Talk about home."

It was an odd subject to talk about when walking in the dark with the high chance of encountering something unsightly (her nerves again), so she wasn't surprise when she saw a slight tensed movement in Shuji's shoulders.

"What is there to talk about?" he said.

"Remember the time when we were little and you told me of the house you were going to live in when you grew up. Tell me that again."

A pause. Konata could tell that he was blushing even from just looking at the back of his head. He said, "I can't remember."

"Don't lie. You do."

"Another time maybe."

"Please." She tugged at the back of his hauberk.

Shuji sighed, and he was nine again. "It was going to be five storied mansion, pool, garden, everything. There would be a rabbit farm, and I would raise a couple of them, maybe six or seven, depending on my wife's opinion. My parents would live with me. Ma would keep the flowers, petunias and lilies, so I don't need to hire someone to maintain the garden. There was also a lake nearby; Pa might go there to fish sometimes. It would be a quiet place, peace and calm."

Konata broke in, "You forgot the part about me."

A light chuckle escaped Shuji. "I'm not saying that part." That told her that he did indeed remember.

She nodded, then spoke again, "Do you still believe in that dream?"

"No." He was eighteen again.

She smiled, and let the matter slide. They continued in the tunnels for another half hour before stopping at where the tunnel curved for a break. The torch had nearly faded, and a fresh one quickly replaced it. There were signs of ancient workmanship that chipped away the edges of some bricks. Occasional fishes could be seen swimming in the low water, their silver skin reflecting a brownish orange under the light of the torch.

They found an exit in a short time at the bottom of a well. The area was lit like a spotlight, where the daylight shined from above down on them. Hanging from the top, there were ropes, a bucket, and some iron hooks that were all used to draw water. They sent the 'clear' back to the rest of the group and they arrived fifteen minutes later. Yaro got out a grappling hook and did a couple of warm up throws before heaving the claw head at the peak of the well. The claw stuck.

Yaro tugged at the rope to test its strength, then turned to the others, asking, "Who's going first?"

* * *

Sergeant Dryden was a huge player. He stood at near seven foot, and had a face that haunted little kids but commanded respect. So when he drew his claymore and waved it at the fortress walls with the sound of horns in the background, all eyes of the Forlorn Hope fell on him. He shouted, "Now, my friends, is time for blood and death! Remember, do not fear the enemy, for our passion, spirit, and thirst for their blood will overcome them definitely. Now go!"

With that, the Forlorn Hope ran. They sprinted towards the right breach. What was left of the defenders on the walls desperately tried to repel the incoming assault, firing all their projectiles at once. However the Forlorn didn't seem to care, they continued to run even as the air around them churned with arrows whipping past. Kirito the Black Swordsman was near the front, his longsword unsheathed and in a frantic swing to deflect any incoming arrows. He dodged bits of debris as he approached the pile of rubble that was the breach.

A war drum began playing in the background, its rhythmic beatings somehow penetrating the congested air at the breach. A player roared a shout of encouragement, and the Forlorn started climbing the slope of the rubble. The orcs threw rocks and stones now, which thumped into players and knocked off balance. Kirito slipped a little as a pebble caught the side of his grey helmet, but then he regained footing and pressed upwards again.

"Come on!" Dryden shouted as he carved a way up the slope with the heel of his spear. An arrow nicked and drew blood from his left cheek, but he shrugged it off like it was nothing. "Bastards! Everyone, hurry and reach the top."

Kirito was screaming his challenge. He was halfway up the slope, and could not see the enemy, just arrows, javelins, stones, and blood. A cry tore through the air. More arrows, one of them embedded in his iron breastplate but didn't penetrate far enough to cause damage. He just plucked it out and tossed it away. Then a voice croaked for help. A player beside him was choking on his own blood as a stone no bigger than a bottle cap buried itself in his throat.

He groped his belt for a health potion and reached out to the player. "Quick, drink this!" But the player slumped backwards to the ground as an arrow pierced his eye. Kirito cursed, then climbed further up.

The first of the Forlorns reached the summit of the breach. "My wall now!" he gave a triumphant shout as though the battle was won already. That was when a contingent of orcs, hidden behind the crest, struck. Kirito counted them roughly the number of the Forlorn Hope, maybe more. They were equipped with axes, maces, knifes, worn helmets, half-broken chest plates. Kirito knew they were fodders, infantry with the purpose of absorbing the brunt of an attack so that the stronger infantry could be protected. True enough, the defenders kept firing their projectiles despite the risks of friendly fire. Savages. Kirito doubled his climbing speed.

"Spears to the front and top!" Dryden shouted.

On his call, the spears thrust forward and stabbed at the fodders. Several orcs had their bellies pierced, guts spilling, and they fell off the summit. Others managed to dodge, waited, and then grabbed the shafts of the spears and pulled, and a series of mini tug-of-wars occurred. But the Forlorn pressed on.

Dryden gave out the orders. "Shield-bearers to the sides; cover our flanks. Swordsmen stick close to the spearmen. Everyone else, get to the summit quickly."

Those were Sergeant Dryden's final words and he never got his promotion, for immediately after he said those words, a two and a half metre long javelin punched through his chest and erupted from the back, sending him hurtling down the breach, past the eyes of his many fellow players and inmates of the death game.

Kirito didn't stop to mourn. He pushed past the dumbfounded spearmen, climbed and reached the summit and ducked as an axehead came swinging at his head. A quick slice at the assailant's chest disarmed him and Kirito kicked the orc off the crest. The rest of the Forlorn, seeing his example, remembered that, with or without their leader, they were still in battle. Sergeant Dryden would live on in their memories, but for now, they had orcs to kill. Blood and death.

Back at the clearers' lines, Healthcliff's division was on the move. They carried ladders, eighteen metre long ladders. However, unlike the Forlorn Hope who sprinted for hell, they marched in columns and at a dictated pace to the beating of the war drums. _Dong._ All left feet stepped synchronized. _Dong. Dong._ Right feet. To the top left of each player's HUD, a bright fat-bladed sword symbol flashed. It was a charging buff that increased a player's first attack, received when a player fell in line with the beats of the drums.

A player tripped on the dust-covered ground, and instantly a sergeant was in his face.

"Do you have no sense of rhythm? Listen and get back to sync, you dingus!"

The player instantly caught up to speed with the others.

The Forlorn were holding up well at the summit. Orcs came, orcs died. Health potions were running low though, and many players found their fingers itching towards the healing crystals that were only to be used for emergency. Kirito slashed right, then brought his blade back across his chest with both hands to counter a lunge coming at him. The petty scimitar was swatted away by the heavier longsword, and the parry threw the scimitar's owner, a thin-faced orc, off balanced, leaving him vulnerable to Kirito's body check. The orc stumbled down the back slope of the breach.

Then the sound of clanging metals and war chants reached his ears. He turned and his face paled. There had to be hundreds of orcs marching towards them through the streets of the fortress, armed with spears and swords which they banged against their shields. A line of orc crossbowmen led the way, the wooden contraptions in their hands somehow shining contemptuously. The dusty skies had cleared, and the vultures returned to hover above the Forlorn Hope's heads. Kirito prayed that Heathcliff will reach soon. For the enemy reinforcement had arrived and they are coming for the Forlorns.

* * *

Asuna watched as Heathcliff's division stalled in their assault. They were having a difficult time mounting the ladders onto the walls because they were constantly poked away by wooden poles before a player could climb. Miku's division of archers and crossbowmen was supposed to provide them cover, but instead the two companies had only engaged briefly before retreating to a distance.

"What the hell is going on?" she shouted at her aide. The battle had her emotions boiling and she barely noticed her rage.

"I don't know, Commander-sama," the aide said sheepishly.

"Go find out!"

"Yes, ma'am."

The aide left on a white stallion and returned several minutes later.

"Well?" Asuna asked.

"Major Miku was wounded by an arrow during the engagement earlier and she's in the infirmary now. Her replacement is too afraid to engage again, says that it's unwise to engage against the defenders on the walls in range combat. They have the high ground."

"That's bull! Players are fucking dying! This is not the time to be afraid. Go tell him to engage now."

The aide went and came back breathing slightly out of breath.

"The Captain says he understands and is moving out."

Asuna didn't let her rest. "Go to Klein. Tell him to move two companies up the left breach. The enemy would have by now known that our main attack is in the right flank and have weakened the left. Go!"

The aide took off hastily.

* * *

Shuji hid behind the walls of a small granary. A large haystack stood to his right, towering over the granary itself. The assault on the southern had left the streets empty of its usual activity, with many defenders rushing to clog out the breaches. The sound of the fighting could be heard from here. Around the corner, two orcs walked with their swords drawn. They could have sworn that they had seen a human ran past moments ago. Shuji drew their attention with a whistle.

The orcs picked up the noise and moved towards Shuji's position. The grunts became louder as they got closer. Then suddenly, a halberd's head stuck out from the haystack and pierced the nearest orc in the belly. A samurai burst out from within the granary's little door and skewered the second orc's head with a claymore. The first orc folded over as the blood started gushing out. He tried to clinch onto the shaft of the halberd, but it twisted sharply and then he was dead. Yaro crawled out of the haystack, dusting the bits of straw off his chest plate.

"You sure took your time, Shuji. It gets really cramp underneath there," the giant player said.

"Sorry, it's hard luring them in small groups," Shuji said, "but I think that's the last of them. The rest have gone to the wall."

"This area is cleared then. Come let's go back to the others," Rinsuu said.

Konata and the others waited at a building with a tall roof that could be access through a ladder placed at its back wall. The building provided an overseer of the right breach in the fortress wall, where an intense skirmish was currently taking place. The clearers held the hundreds of advancing orcs at a chokepoint in the summit of rubble and the thin line looked like it would stand, however Shuji knew that eventually fatigue would settle in and the clearers would be pushed back.

"What's happen so far?" Rinsuu asked Denham on the thatched roof.

"The main assault group is late. The Forlorns are barely holding. And the orcs brought in their ballistae." He pointed to a group of orcs not far from them pushing and pulling four ballistae to the mouth of the street that ran straight unobstructed with a clear view the breach. "Do we still wait?" he asked. Their orders were to wait till Heathcliff's division scaled the walls before they could begin their flanking maneuver.

"Yes, we wait," Rinsuu replied. "I don't like it though. There're players fighting there and we're waiting here."

"Me neither. So what do we do?"

"We wait."

"I thought you didn't like it."

"I don't. What do you suggest?"

"We could try to take the ballistae?"

Rinsuu slapped the back of his friend who coughed in surprise. "I like that. But how do we do that?"

"Just wrestle it from them, Rinsuu. They are detached from the main force anyways."

The samurai nodded, then turned to others on the ground, and said, "Weapons ready guys, we're going now."

* * *

Kirito was at the ends of the rope. He had taken command of the Forlorn Hope, no one disputed that, and he ordered players to form a shieldwall and clogged up the breach as much possible. Leave no openings, he had said. It was an effective formation for not only did the enemy crossbows failed to penetrate the wall, it held the advancing infantry well in place, where a second line of players could reach over the shoulders of the shield-bearers and hack and slash at them. He had also ordered a third line of spearmen and swordsmen to deal with any breakthroughs. And to those remaining in the rear, he told them to distract the defenders on the walls by throwing stones, broken arrow shafts, javelins, etc. He himself was behind in the third line and would occasionally stepped forward and thrust out his blade when an orc lunged close.

Being on the high ground, they had the advantage, for the orcs had to climb a mess of rubble to reach them. The orcs climbed, tripped, and fell into players' blades. By now the bodies of fallen orcs had made a barricade in front of the clearers, adding to the difficulty of assaulting the clearer's position. However numbers was something expendable to the orcs, and wasn't to the Forlorn Hope. A spear found a hole in the shieldwall and rammed home into a player's liver. The player screamed in pain and dropped his kiteshield, opening a gap in the first line. That gap proved to be deadly, for immediately five orcs swamped into it like a mini-wedge.

The third line sprang into action. Every orc's head was buried with two swords and his abdominal pierced by a spear. The small breakthrough was taken cared of quickly but left the Forlorn Hope three players less. And like every time someone died at the first line, someone from the back line would pick up his shield and assumed position at the shieldwall. Thus the number of the previous line grew smaller, while the first line stayed the same.

Kirito watched as the numbers piled upon them. His helmet was battered, crushed in at some places. Cuts dressed his body; the most frightening one was a slash near his left eye that nearly blinded him. He could taste the dust in his saliva mixed with sweat. Salty with a pinch of shit, that's how he would describe their situation, actually, a whole lot of shit. Where the hell was Heathcliff? He looked for a miracle in the ramparts beside him, and found none.

But a miracle was indeed happening. However it was happening not in the walls where Kirito hoped Heathcliff's division had reached the top, but from within the fortress, at the mouth of a street where four ballistae unlimbered and prepared to fire at the clearers on the breach.

A small group of eleven players could be seen sneaking up from the alleys between buildings.

* * *

Like all professional assassins, Shuji crouched behind a wheelbarrow as he waited for the signal. The sun lingered above in the sky and was only beginning its slow descent westwards. Vultures were still circling the air, albeit now much closer to the ground and carnage that the battle had provided. The street they were in was a wide and long one, and there were remnants of wooden stalls that indicated this was once a market road where vendors and buyers met to exchange goods and services. Shuji realized that the entire fortress looked more abandoned rather than being inhabited by orcs.

He peeked over the edge of the wheelbarrow. No more than twenty metres away, eight orcs worked unsuspectingly on their ballistae, readying to fire the first bolts. Rinsuu, Denham, Hagman crouched by a cottage hut to his right, and Konata, hidden by a conveniently placed bundle of straw, lay prone on the roof of the hut. The others were scattered all over in a ragged semicircle that cupped the engineering orcs' position.

A small pebble, the size of little boy's palm, was thrown, and it bounced on the ground several times before stopping. The orcs, of course, hadn't heard it for they were too busy hurrying with their machines, but the group of eleven heard well and clear. They had been actively waiting for it. The signal.

It was a mad dash, an organized mad dash. Ten players shot out of hiding, screaming their challenges. Rinsuu had designed the ambush to make it seem as though an entire company was attacking. Which was why Konata was firing three arrows at a time, accuracy didn't matter, the point was to frighten the orcs that they run without a fight. However the opposite was achieved, the orcs were too frightened and instead, stood still paralyzed and confused. Either way, they made easy pickings for the clearers.

Shuji slithered in like a snake and drew first blood with a slash down a shocked orc's face. The orc felled to the ground in pain as he tried to put his parted face back together again. A short thrust to the neck finished him off. He was about to turn on to the next enemy when he was pushed aside by a larger Yaro who just entered the scene. The giant player swung his halberd like a crazed man, however with deadly accuracy. An arm sliced off here, a head gone there; he was like the grim reaper taking an afternoon stroll. Shuji noted how much the man seemed to lose himself in a battle.

The remaining orcs soon regained their minds from shocked state, and began to put up a resistance. A brief resistance, for they also soon realized the situation was hopeless and began to flee, leaving behind the ballistae and bolts. Konata picked them off from the distance.

"No time to celebrate, guys," Rinsuu said. "You all know what to do."

"Yeah," Shuji said.

He looked to the masses of orcs at the base of the breach, clawing their way to the top where the Forlorn Hope's line dwindled with each passing minute. The samurai grinned. Use the orcs' own weapons against them.

The group went to work, each ballista attended by two or three players. The orcs had dutifully loaded the first bolts, which were promptly fired into the rear ranks of orcs at the breach. One missed wide, but the other three each managed to pierce through the backs of several infantry. Mild panic ensued in the ranks. Rinsuu and co hurried in the reloading.

"Do you know how to work this thing?" Hagman asked Shuji.

Shuji shook his head.

"I'll show you. Look."

Hagman hooked the bow's string with a latch that ran down along the body of the ballista and was attached to a cranking device called the cranequin. Hagman cranked it almost to the limit. A bolt was placed on the stock, its feathered end nocked onto the bow's cord.

"Simple," Hagman said, then pulled a string that unhooked the latch.

The bolt flew true and straight, and tore past armour like paper into the spine of a fat orc. Shuji heard the cry of pain despite the long distance. The process was repeated and repeated, and each ballista soon chucked out projectiles like repeating turrets. Konata rejoined the group a quarter into the stock of bolts. The ranks of orcs were being decimated from behind, and the Forlorn Hope found new vigour and strength, and they held steadfast as the defenders of the fortress felt trapped between the shieldwall and ballistae. The clearers had the enemy sandwiched.

* * *

Whoever the infiltrators were, Kirito couldn't thank them enough. If it wasn't for them firing the ballistae into the back of the defenders, the Forlorn would have been dead. He had almost resigned to the faith of death, and it was strange how, despite accepting that each day might be his last, he shuddered when that notion seemed realer than ever. Thank goodness he didn't falter.

To his left above the breach, Heathcliff had finally managed to scale the walls and claimed the ramparts after a brief skirmish with the defenders, not that he needed him anymore though, for the orcs were now reeling. He laughed out loud. Some clearers looked at him funny, but he didn't care. They had beaten the odds. Man, he wanted a drink, and he was sure the rest of the Forlorns wanted one too. They sat on their helmets, their weapons and shields put aside as they watched the orcs flee down the intricate streets that was like a maze and led to the gate of the castle-keep in the middle of the fortress where many assumed the boss room was. Kirito thought about whether he should join the boss raid this time. Usually he would, but today's event was too close of a call that he decided to take a break.

The gatehouse was captured as the sun was nearing the horizon, and the double portcullis doors were raised, allowing the cavalry and other companies to enter. Players poured into the fortress as though a floodgate had just been released, and when they saw that the orcs were on the run they turned their attention to the houses and armouries and granaries. News came of a crushing victory in the left flank of the wall where Major Klein swept in with two companies of halberdiers and took the defenders by surprise, and by sunset, all the orcs had retreated to within the castle keep. No further assaults would be made today; the final push was left till tomorrow. For now, only plunder was in the mind of the clearers.

Buildings were stripped off their valuables in rapid haste, some even torn down because their wood could be sold as building materials. A player from the **«Great Brigade» **found a storehouse of raw meat and a feast instantly happened outside said storehouse, dozens flocked to fill their empty bellies. Gold pieces and jewels were found in bountiful amounts. Many would be rich today. And many drank, danced, ate, and ran amok. It took a collective effort by those unfazed by the draw of wealth and quick entertainment to finally bring order back amongst the clearers' ranks. Sergeants cracked out orders and had to physically restrain several men for their words were falling on deaf ears. Kirito was one of those who had not lost himself in the lust for loot, but however he had only wish to fulfill; he went in search of a drink.

A makeshift wall of old carts and barrels was erected in the streets as clearers were housed for the night in the multitudes of buildings and homes that weren't destroyed. Sentries were posted and they watched the castle in the dark for any movements or signs that betray a midnight sneak attack.

Kirito found himself, not far from the left breach, a tavern that was dusty with cobwebs because of years of disuse. There were broken tables, torn animal skins, smashed pots and plates. He discovered the storage cellar behind the counter and punched a hole in one of the wine barrels with his longsword. He filled a mug that he found in the kitchen, then flipped a fallen stool and sat on it, drinking in gulps. And for the rest of the night he turned away anyone else looking for a drink, unless they were a Forlorn. Players would need to stay sober for the enemy could still strike at any time.

Now he let the memories of the battle come flooding in. He had long grown desensitized to the screams, scared faces, and bloodied bodies. He had seen countless of deaths, countless, so much so that he liked to think that he had just one day stopped feeling, detached from reality and secluded himself from others. Sometimes he asks, was this game his reality? He went for a second mug of rum. The mug was downed in one gulp. Perhaps that was why they called him the Black Swordsman, for his lack of empathy. Sergeant Dryden, he had known him. He was a beta-tester, a good man, but was never known for his courage, so it came as a surprise to him when he volunteered to be one of the sixty-two to assault the walls first. Kirito went for a third fill.

The effect of the alcohol was starting to show as Kirito felt his legs go wobbly. He took in his surroundings. There was an old grandfather clock to the far right of the room; it was still ticking despite it being probably many years since a human last gazed upon it to check the time. The short hand rested on eleven, while the long hand ticked by five. There was an old portrait of a well-dressed family in a background of the night and stars lying on the floor, having fallen from the wall when the hook rusted and gave way. Kirito pushed aside the broken halves of tables and stools to clear a small space on the wooden floor, then he laid down, staring at the brown stale ceiling, and started counting the sheep. Soon enough he slept.

Only to be woken by the sound of thunder at midnight.

Shouts, yells, screams echoed from outside the tavern. Kirito grunted and propped himself up on an elbow. Another scream, and suddenly Kirito was up on his feet, sword drawn, fingers scrambling through his menu to equip his armor. The Norse helmet, iron chest plate, greaves, and gauntlets materialized. More shouts, then the sound of blades slashing, and then silence. Kirito crept up to the double doors of the tavern and lightly pushed against the wooden frame to peek. In the darkness, he couldn't see anything, only hearing the panicking steps of players and the loud thunder of hooves. What was going on?

He pressed against the door more and inadvertently stumbled forward, swinging the door wide open. Two pairs of eyes caught onto him immediately, and through the flicker of lit torches, Kirito saw that those eyes weren't human's. Fuck, he cussed, and ducked right back inside the tavern. He ran to the other side of the room, and it didn't take long before the doors were kicked down by humongous hooves. A horse-looking beast stride in, its disproportional size so large that its rider, a red-skinned orc not bothering to dismount, had to smashed the top frame of the door with his mace to make room for his head to fit under. A second rider was right behind him, he wielded an ax.

The two orcs were a new breed that Kirito hadn't seen before. They were bigger, more muscular, better equipped, and had red skin. _Cabaleiro, that name cam__e to mind, having overheard__ it from the hushed whispers of NPC__ villager__s._ He knew almost certainly, he wouldn't last long in a fight with them, maybe if it was one but definitely not two or more. The first rider charged. Instinctively, Kirito kicked a stool at him, but his steed caught it midair between its teeth before it could reach its rider. The stool snapped into splinters as the horse-beast bit down before surging forward again. Kirito dropped to the floor, rolled away from the swing of the orc's mace and sprang up straight towards the door. However the second rider got in the way and Kirito found himself colliding against the wall as he was knocked aside by the flat of the ax. The orcs closed in.

He had to get out of here fast. So he pulled out the oldest trick in the book. He baited the two Cabaleiros towards him, then when they were close enough to catch him within the reaches of their weapons, he kicked off the wall and dived through the gap between them, narrowly avoiding their swings. It worked because the maneuver was sudden and quick, taking the riders by surprise for a split second and that split second was more than enough for Kirito to make his getaway. Not bad for a half drunk teen.

He ran out of the tavern and immediately went straight for the alleys. He wouldn't have a chance in the open streets because of those horse-beasts. So he ran, turned left, left, right, and he was behind an inn. The sound of an alarm bell rang in the air from a distance, alerting clearers to the surprise attack. He could only guess that the makeshift wall was overrun and a second line of defense would have been set up by now, but why hadn't the sentries noticed them coming?

The alleys were dark with the shadows of buildings looming, and he did not know where he was actually going. Another right turn and suddenly he was back on the streets. He was about to duck right back in the alley when he saw a group of players that caught his attention. There were eleven of them, and they were piling boards of wood and stones to build some sort of fortifications to slow down the incoming score of Cabaleiros who were on the other end of the street mopping up fleeing clearers.

"Konata go get more wood, there're at the back of that building over there," one of the players said. He had dark hair and a sharp face. The only girl of the group took off running to the building to their right.

Kirito saw a wagon parked next to a vendor's house, and he ran towards the players.

"Flip that caravan!" he shouted, pointing frantically at its direction.

The dark-haired player saw him and gave a confused expression before following his finger to the wagon. The player's eyes widened.

"Rinsuu, Denham!" he called out.

Rinsuu, who Kirito recognized from previous raid battles, nodded and barked at everyone to drop what they were doing. The wagon was brought to the centre of the street, and they gathered on its right side. Kirito joined them, and at the count of three, they all heaved.

For a second the caravan refused to budge, then the largest player of the group seemed to take all of the wagon's weight and thrust it skywards. The wheels shifted in the stony road and everyone leaned their weight against the huge vehicle. It teetered for a second, then with a splintering thump, collapsed on the road on its side, kicking up a small dusk cloud.

A stream of fleeing players trickled past them. Around a dozen joined Rinsuu's group as they tried to make a stand against the fury of the Cabaleiros. Battle position was assumed behind the wagon-wall which clogged the majority of the street's width. The spearmen guarded the flanks, the butts of their spears planted firmly on the floor at an angle so that the weight of a charge could be received by the ground instead of the player. Crossbowmen stood behind the caravan, bolts at the ready, they would only have one shot. Kirito and the swordsmen had their javelins materialized; they too would have one volley. The girl from earlier who ran to get wood returned and joined the crossbowmen.

The Cabaleiros, having wiped out most of the fleeing players, now noticed the small line of defense and formed up the charge. Kirito could almost imagine their faces drawn back with the ecstasy of killing players, and he was suddenly worried that their little wall stood no chance. These riders were drunk with victory and nothing could stop their rampage now.

"One volley, then we all run," Rinsuu said, as if reading Kirito's mind.

"My God!" a player suddenly exclaimed.

"What is it?" Kirito asked.

The player raised a finger in the direction of the riders. His face had lost all colour and he said in a low voice, "That's the field boss."

Kirito turned, saw, and froze. A lone Cabaleiro had ridden up almost close to their line. The crossbowmen could have shot at him, but they all froze in fear as well. The orc squinted at them with his one good eye; the other eye was sewn shut, and looked like it was bleeding from within. He was bigger and more muscular than the others, though his skin was painted red as well. Green circular tattoos adorned his neck. His mouth contorted strangely, revealing a set of blackened teeth. In his left hand, he held the reins to his steed, the feared war-beast of which Kirito had encountered earlier, and in his right a brutal axe that looked to kill with a single stroke. The name tag, **«Azhug of the Brethren»**,hovered above his head.

"…or we could run now," Rinsuu said, but no one saw the humour in his words.

* * *

**Author Notes: **Once again sorry for the long wait. It's been two months I think. But I think I can get the next update much faster since I already got a quarter of it written, that would be ideal. Regarding this chapter though, I had a lot of fun writing it, it's perhaps my favorite chapter so far, the reason why it took so long was because I had exams. However, that is not to say that this chapter may actually be shit and I didn't realize it. So thoughts? Write them down in a review if you so please.

Also a shoutout to Agent 94 for his amazing inputs such as the idea of using the orc's own ballistae against themselves. Go check his stuff, guaranteed satisfaction if you like dungeon crawling, role-playing, medieval warfare, and overall great writing. I would also like to thank all my reviewers so far because without them this fic wouldn't have gotten to here today.

Well, that's the end of this chapter be sure to review, favorite, follow, or PM me if you want. See ya.


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